


For Life

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Marriage Proposal, Pining, Romance, Side Sehun / Junmyeon, Slow Burn, Vampires, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Kyungsoo assumed it was a joke. After all, how serious could a “We’ll marry each other if we are still single at 125 years old” pact really be? Queue the reappearance of fellow vampire (and one half of the marriage pact), Park Chanyeol, who is very much ready to collect on a century-old deal between friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because vampire marriage pact Chansoo was too hard to resist. Enjoy ~~~

Fake blood had a horrible smell. Chanyeol wrinkled his nose, doing his best not to show how disgusted he was. It was hard not to gag when the oddly dressed human brought a cup of the foul stuff to their lips and drank. The thought of ingesting the stuff ...Chanyeol turned away. 

He scanned the small restaurant, eyes lingering on the posters, eager to find a distraction in any form. He knew most of the bands advertised on them, horror punk, a few thrash metal groups as well. One thing Chanyeol prided himself on was keeping up with music through the years, following the trends that had completely changed the sound of popular music over his lifetime. 

His very _long_ lifetime. 

The rest of the restaurant was decorated in what Chanyeol would categorize as tacky décor –– red velvet drapes and fake gold candelabras, a coffin painted black propped up in one corner. Fake cobwebs had been shoved into random spaces, trying to create a spooky atmosphere. He couldn’t imagine how Kyungsoo had chosen to decorate like this, it was so unlike him. Or at least the _him_ that Chanyeol remembered. It made him wonder how much Kyungsoo might have changed since he last saw him. 

“Were you the one looking for Kyungsoo?” a voice tore Chanyeol from his sour appraisal of the restaurant’s interior design. 

Chanyeol found a small human in front of him, a younger man dressed in a black button down and slacks with an apron tied around his waist. One glance at the gold name tag told Chanyeol this one was called Baekhyun. “Yes.”

Baekhyun didn’t try to hide it when he looked Chanyeol up and down, obviously checking him out. “And how do you know him again?”

“We’re old friends,” Chanyeol explained, narrowing his eyes at the human. “How do you know him?”

“I work here.” Baekhyun gave Chanyeol a funny look. “I mean, I don’t dress like this for fun.” He gestured towards his uniform. 

“Right, of course.” Chanyeol swallowed. He was nervous, and it was all kinds of ridiculous. He didn’t get nervous, hadn’t been nervous in ages. But this, _this_ was a bit different. He hadn’t seen Kyungsoo since...honestly, he wasn’t sure. At least fifty years, maybe more. 

“Anyway, he said he’ll take a break soon so you can meet him out back. It’s around the building. We have a few milk crates set up back there if you want a seat.” Baekhyun gestured towards the door. “He said it should be ten minutes.”

“He doesn’t want to meet me inside?” Chanyeol frowned.

Baekhyun shrugged. “He said outside.”

Chanyeol fought the pout that threatened to show. Do Kyungsoo wanted to meet him in the back of some restaurant, making it all seem so shady and unimportant. He didn’t like it, not when he had come to say something significant to Kyungsoo. 

Chanyeol sighed and headed for the front door. He wasn’t thrilled about sitting on milk crates in some dark alley, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

  
  
  


Chanyeol would have practiced what to say in front of a mirror if that was a possibility. It wasn’t (vampires and mirrors really didn’t mix well), so instead, he had tried talking to the brick wall behind the restaurant, which proved to be a very poor stand-in for the real thing. Chanyeol felt deflated and slumped onto a stack of milk crates, feeling like the entire journey was hopeless. 

Overhead a single light flickered, bugs swarming against it. Chanyeol frowned, peering into the darkness. So, Do Kyungsoo ran a vampire themed restaurant now. Chanyeol smiled at the knowledge Kyungsoo was still cooking, even if it was at a place with hideous decor and a questionable premise. 

Do Kyungsoo had always been punctual, and apparently, he hadn’t lost that trait over the years. Exactly ten minutes after Baekhyun had ushered Chanyeol outside, Kyungsoo was stepping out of the security locked backdoor. Chanyeol bolted upright from his milk crate, knocking over the top crate in the process. 

“Sorry, I––”

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo said, in that deep voice that Chanyeol had never entirely forgotten. It was a bit jarring to hear it again if Chanyeol was honest with himself. It was a voice across the decades. “What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”

Chanyeol forgot all about the toppled milk crate the second Kyungsoo opened his mouth. He was there, standing in front of him, clad in a chef’s uniform, a ridiculously tall hat on his head and a stained white apron around his waist. He looked good, he looked exactly the way Chanyeol remembered him, which shouldn’t have been a surprise but in Chanyeol’s overstimulated brain it was. Same dark eyes, same full lips, same well-formed features. If Chanyeol could still breathe, he was sure he might have forgotten to at that moment. 

“I asked Junmyeon where to find you. He said you still talk to Sehun, who gave me your address. And any way yes, it’s, um, it’s me,” Chanyeol blurted out, rambling awkwardly. He forced himself to smile, hoping he would look more at ease than he felt. 

Kyungsoo took his hat off, gripping it tightly in his left hand. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agreed. “A really long time. Listen, I have something I want to discuss with you. Do you have a few minutes?” 

“Uhm, yeah. Sure.” Kyungsoo walked over to one of the milk carton stacks and took a seat. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Perfectly fine.” Chanyeol bent over and picked up the fallen milk carton, quickly dusting it off. Setting it back in place, he took a seat opposite Kyungsoo. “I decided to come to see you because it occurred to me that we aren’t getting any younger––”

“We can’t get younger. Or older. We’re dead,” Kyungsoo interrupted. “We legitimately cannot age. Our hearts are no longer beating. We drink blood to survive.”

Chanyeol ignored Kyungsoo in favor of continuing his very importantTM speech. “I’m not sure how well you remember this, but back when we were very _not-dead_ , we discussed marriage and had promised that if we were both to find ourselves single at a certain age, we would marry each other. It seems like we are both past that age now and as far as Sehun knew, you aren’t married and well, neither am I. So, I was thinking we should probably get married soon, assuming you’re still interested in keeping your word, that is.” Chanyeol spat it all out in a rambling mess, his voice lilting higher as he finished. He gritted his teeth together, feeling embarrassed. If there was blood in his body he would be furiously blushing by now.

Kyungsoo stared at Chanyeol, not a hint of emotion flickering across his face. He looked like he was digesting each word Chanyeol had spoken, mulling it over in his brain before responding. The lack of reaction didn’t help Chanyeol to feel any more at ease. 

“Chanyeol, that was over a hundred years ago,” Kyungsoo said slowly. 

“Give or take.” Chanyeol swallowed. 

“My memory is a bit fuzzy, but If I recall correctly, we said that we would get married if we’re both single at one hundred and twenty-five years old.” Kyungsoo folded his hands on his lap. “That isn’t a normal lifespan of a human, which I think is what we were when we made the pact. And I’m sorry, but I had completely forgotten all about it until you just brought it up.”

Chanyeol forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Of course, I would never have remembered if I hadn’t written it down in my um… journal. Which I uhm ... recently found! Anyway, now that we both remember I think it is worth discussing. After all, it is bad to not keep your promises.” He really hoped he didn’t sound too eager. “It’s rude to not keep your word, you know. Even if you’re undead.”

Kyungsoo chewed on his bottom lip. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

Chanyeol nodded. “What do we have to lose? You’re single, right?” Chanyeol had a moment of panic when he realized that he hadn’t asked Kyungsoo if he was seeing anyone. What if Kyungsoo was in a relationship? What if he had just made a colossal fool of himself, dragging himself halfway across the world to some vampire-themed restaurant, talking about marriage pacts and–––

“I’m single,” Kyungsoo confirmed. “I haven’t been with anyone since we last talked.”

Chanyeol refrained from smiling at Kyungsoo’s revelation, a sense of victory washing over him at the news. But also, holy shit, he hadn’t been with anyone in at least fifty years? And Chanyeol thought his love life was sad.

“Then how about it?” Chanyeol smiled widely, trying to look friendly. If his heart still beat, he was sure it would be thundering in his chest right about then. “Should we get married?”

Kyungsoo sighed. “Do our kind even get married?”

“Sehun and Junmyeon are married,” Chanyeol countered. 

“Yes, but they aren’t _norma_ l.” Kyungsoo stood up. He moved to put his chef’s hat back on, carefully smoothing his hands over the crown to make sure it was not askew. “Where do you live?”

“Seoul,” Chanyeol answered. He stood, almost knocking down the milk crate for the second time, fumbling awkwardly to right it. 

Kyungsoo blinked at him. “Did you come here just to find me?”

“Maybe,” Chanyeol offered, feeling like he might be giving too much away with even this small confession. He shifted on his feet. 

Kyungsoo once again didn’t betray his reaction. He simply nodded at Chanyeol. “I have to go back to work. The place closes at one. Are you staying somewhere nearby?”

“The Hilton,” Chanyeol answered. “I read the reviews and they have the best blackout curtains.”

“I’ll come see you around two. We can talk more then.” Kyungsoo reached for the door handle. “It’s good to see you, Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, same,” Chanyeol said, feeling all sorts of lame. He watched Kyungsoo walk back into the restaurant, anxious for what was to come later that night.

  
  


Chanyeol spent the next several hours working himself into a nervous frenzy. Should he have something waiting for Kyungsoo? Someone to feed off? Did Kyungsoo still like early morning snacks? What if he got confused and went to the wrong Hilton? There had to be a hundred of them in the Chicago metro area alone. 

Chanyeol changed his clothing three times and his hairstyle four, tossing a Metallica t-shirt on the floor before grabbing a button down that was two sizes too big. His hair ended up a mess from trying to style it five different ways, and he finally gave up and put on a baseball cap. Finally annoyed with his own antics, Chanyeol settled himself down in the ugly mauve armchair near the window and waited for Kyungsoo’s arrival. 

At a quarter to two in the morning, there was a knock on the door. Chanyeol rushed to get it, hand flying to the handle without even checking to see who it was. When he opened the door, he found Kyungsoo had changed too–– gone was his chef’s uniform, his apron, and his hat. In its place was a black oversized Ramones t-shirt, dark black jeans, and black boots. Chanyeol had to stop himself from ogling his long-lost best friend because holy shit, were those jeans made for Kyungsoo. Chanyeol silently thank the winds of change for getting Kyungsoo out of long, shapeless robes and into thigh hugging black jeans.

“Hi,” Chanyeol croaked, holding the door open. “Come in, please.”

Kyungsoo grunted a hello and padded inside. By the time Chanyeol had the door shut and locked, Kyungsoo was already sitting in the mauve chair, tapping his fingers on the arm. 

“Are you hungry?” Chanyeol asked, his feet sliding against the cheap hotel carpeting. 

“No. I ate earlier.” Kyungsoo crossed his legs and straightened his posture. He looked good, Chanyeol thought. Really good. 

Chanyeol took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “Good. I wasn’t sure where to get something to eat around here.”

“We have a pretty open blood bank,” Kyungsoo said. “Remind me to give you the keeper’s name before I go.”

“Thanks.” Chanyeol smiled. Part of him wanted to launch into the playful banter that had always been a hallmark of their relationship decades ago, but the other part of him felt like this wasn’t the place or the time. Kyungsoo didn’t look like he wanted to hear Chanyeol ramble on about horse racing or indulge in a game of Baccarat while they made judgmental comments about mutual acquaintances. God, it really had been so long since they’d seen each other, hadn’t it?

“You realize marriage is a lot different for us,” Kyungsoo started, apparently courageous enough to stare down the elephant in the room. Chanyeol should have expected it, Kyungsoo had never lacked courage. He was straightforward, blunt even. It was something Chanyeol had admired about him. “We don’t have an expiration date.”

“I know.” Chanyeol swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “I am well aware.”

“When we talked about getting married if we were still single, that wasn’t even remotely legal at the time,” Kyungsoo pointed out. “What year was it even: Eighteen ninety-five? Eighteen ninety-six?”

“One of those.” Chanyeol wasn’t entirely sure what year, what day, what month the words were uttered, but he could still vividly remember how Kyungsoo looked that day and where they were. _How it felt._

“It was a joke, I assumed.” The toe of Kyungsoo’s boot began to move like he was fighting a nervous tic. Chanyeol tried not to stare at it. “I didn’t expect that you would remember it.”

“It was in my journal,” Chanyeol swore, telling a bald-faced lie. 

“Right. Your journal.” Kyungsoo didn’t look convinced. “Chanyeol, I…. Is it even something we could do? It would mean eternity together.”

“We were best friends once,” Chanyeol blurted out, realizing how eager he sounded. 

“ _Once_. It’s been decades since we last saw each other,” Kyungsoo pointed out. 

“Decades are like months for us.”

“That may be, but are you sure?” Kyungsoo leaned forward. He maintained eye contact with Chanyeol as he spoke. “A joke from over a hundred years ago isn’t a good reason to get married, not if it will make either of us unhappy, not to mention the logistics of a marriage. We live on separate continents and––”

“We could make it work.” Chanyeol didn’t want to lose this, didn’t want Kyungsoo to say no. He tried to pretend that it was because he hated losing at anything, but he knew deep down there was something else at play, something he didn’t want to put a name to. “Besides, didn’t we make the pact because we knew we would always get along? Soo, we’ve always been happy when we’ve been together, right? Best friends. Spending eternity with my best friend sounds awesome.”

Kyungsoo sighed. “You really want this?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol nodded. I _’m lonely._

Kyungsoo bit his lip and looked away. “Then, fine.” He looked back at Chanyeol. “We can try it. And I mean _try_. We aren’t getting married until we know we can make this work, at least on some level.”

“You want to date first?” Chanyeol perked up. 

Kyungsoo tilted his head to the side and observed Chanyeol, taking a moment before he responded. “Isn’t this about best friends getting married? I didn’t realize it was romantic.”

“It––it isn’t. Romantic I mean,” Chanyeol stuttered. 

Chanyeol could almost swear Kyungsoo smirked, a barely perceptible upturn of his lips that was gone in a second. “Then let’s make sure we can make this work with simple things. Like where we live, if we make anything legal, ground rules, boundaries, things like that.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Chanyeol nodded eagerly. 

“Take a month or two and figure it out.” Kyungsoo stood, causing Chanyeol to do so as well. 

“Going so soon?” Chanyeol shifted on his feet, not sure what he was saying. 

“Yeah. I have some things I need to attend to,” Kyungsoo answered cryptically. “I’ll come to find you tomorrow around the same time if that works for you.”

Chanyeol agreed. He somehow managed to swallow down his disappointment long enough to see Kyungsoo to the hotel room door. 

Kyungsoo was halfway across the threshold when he stopped and turned back. “It’s good to see you again, Chanyeol. I missed you.”

And for some reason, those were the words Chanyeol knew would make his heart beat erratically if that was still something that could happen. He grinned at his former? Best friend. “Yeah, same.”

Kyungsoo turned back around and headed for the elevator. 

Chanyeol was smiling like an idiot the entire way back into his room. He flopped onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress.

He missed him. Kyungsoo had actually missed him. 

It wasn’t until near dawn that he even remembered that Kyungsoo hadn’t given him the number of the blood bank keeper. He would go hungry until the next night. 

  
  


The empty office chair moved back, rolling a few feet towards the small bookcase on the left of the screen. A manga slid from the bookshelf and floated back towards the webcam, the chair following it. 

Chanyeol slumped into the mound of pillows behind him and squinted at his laptop screen. “Can you please not read while I’m talking.”

“I’m not reading,” Sehun protested, the manga opening, pages turning swiftly as if by an invisible hand. 

“I might not be able to see you, but I can see your manga,” Chanyeol huffed. Seriously, he wasn’t even sure why he face timed with Sehun. Two vampires talking on camera was the opposite of a concept, considering neither could be captured by the modern equipment. It was a conversation featuring disembodied voices and objects moving about, more suited to a paranormal reality show than an honest conversation between friends. 

The manga fell onto the floor with a loud thwack. Sehun sighed. “Hyung, I _was_ listening. You made a fool out of yourself to Kyungsoo, who happened to look really hot. Blah blah blah you might get married, but I’m not supposed to tell Kyungsoo hyung what you told me and blah blah I can be your best man blah blah you are obviously super gay for Kyungsoo blah blah.”

Chanyeol folded his arms across his chest. “Most importantly, Sehun, I don’t even know how to date a person, much less my best friend.” He hated how whiny he sounded. He hated how he was whining to Sehun, of all people. He hated that was his only option. He hated that he didn’t have a ten-step program to wooing his one-time bestie, so none of this whiny, invisible skype bullshit was a necessity. 

“You want my advice?” Sehun asked, the manga flying up from the floor again. 

“No, but shoot.” 

“Kyungsoo must like you, or he would never agree to even try this marriage thing you conveniently remembered a hundred years later. And you like him, even if you don’t want to admit it fully. Go hang out, the rest will come naturally.” A page of the manga turned, then another. “Now, you owe me twenty-five dollars for the advice.”

“Seriously, how does Junmyeon put up with you.” Chanyeol shook his head. 

“I have a big dick,” Sehun answered without missing a beat. “And even in death, he’s a size queen.”

“I really don’t need to know that.” Chanyeol hovered over the disconnect call icon. “I gotta go. If any of this gets back to Kyungsoo, you’re dead.”

“Already am,” Sehun sing-songed just as Chanyeol disconnected the call. Seriously, Chanyeol thought, Sehun was starting to pick up Junmyeon’s dry sense of humor, and it wasn’t a good thing. 

Chanyeol slid the laptop along the bed, out of his way, so he could sprawl on his back with his arms hanging out, legs flopped open wide. He stared at the ceiling, thinking. 

Could it really be that easy? Just hang out, and the rest would come? Perhaps he had built it all up in his head to be an impossible task, something that would take considerable effort, but honestly, so far it had been rather uncomplicated. Kyungsoo had agreed to try it out with only minimal begging on Chanyeol’s part. He hadn’t expected that. Uncomplicated didn’t equate to easy, however, because Chanyeol couldn’t just go with the flow. Not where Kyungsoo was concerned, even after all these years. He would always overthink things when it came to Kyungsoo and mostly because in his mind Kyungsoo deserved it. 

_Dating Do Kyungsoo_. He had never thought in his entire lifetime – alive or dead – that he would end up in this situation. 

Chanyeol turned on his side. “Kyungsoo, why is it never easy with you,” he whispered. “Why?”

  


~~~❦~~~

_1895_

_Seoul_

Chanyeol dipped the brush into the ink pot, his wrist moving gingerly up and down. Raising the brush, he turned to press it onto the blotting paper, leaving a thick circle of black ink behind. The first slide against the vellum made him frown.

“You said this is the only kind at the market now?” Chanyeol said, his hand sliding up and down on the paper in an attempt to write the delicate characters. The ink was reacting differently to this new kind of paper, the characters looked messy. He hated it. 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo answered. “It’s Western, or so I was told. The paper is only sold by Japanese merchants now.”

Chanyeol set his jaw in a tight line and tried to concentrate on saving the poem. It was a lost cause, the ink soaking deep, causing a smear. He finally gave up, setting the brush down on the blotting paper with a frustrated sigh. He leaned back on the pillow he was seated on, his palms pressing into the soft pink and yellow cushion. “I can’t work with this. I’ll have to send for some paper from another market.”

“Does that mean we don’t have to study today?” Kyungsoo asked, sounding hopeful. 

Chanyeol glanced towards his friend (and pupil). They were seated in the large study of Kyungsoo’s father’s house. It was a quiet room, tucked near the back of the residence, on the side facing the mountain. A cool breeze seemed to perpetually hug the room, filtering in through the windows whenever they were open. It was quiet here, a perfect place for a wayward young man to study. 

“No, it means we don’t have to _write_ today. We still need to read.” Chanyeol sat up straight, fixing his posture. He reached for the nearby volume of the Spring and Autumn Annals, setting it on top of the low table in front of him. “Where have you read until?”

Kyungsoo’s shoulders fell as he exhaled. “It is too nice outside, Chanyeol. We should go for a walk to the kitchens. There’s a new recipe and––”

“Your father will kill me if we go for a walk again.” Chanyeol needed the money he was receiving for tutoring Kyungsoo, and he was precariously close to losing it. One more infraction and he couldn’t fault Kyungsoo’s father for yanking away the remaining coins he was owed. 

Kyungsoo pushed the lap desk away, stretching out his legs. The sky-blue robe he wore contrasted to the dark scarlet of the room’s rug, the silk pooling onto the carpet. “I honestly think he hates me. Why else would he hire my friend to tutor me? It is impossible for me to take this seriously.”

“What?” Chanyeol scoffed. “Are you saying that you aren’t learning? Because if you––“

“I am _saying_ that the last thing I want to be doing with _you_ is studying,” Kyungsoo clarified in a soft voice. “After growing up together, playing and having fun, being stuck in a room with you scolding me to study is a lesson in patience. I already hate studying as it is, this doesn’t make me like it anymore.”

Chanyeol couldn’t argue. It was a rather strange arrangement; he was aware. Most sons of nobility were tutored by older scholars, not someone the same age. He often wondered precisely how Kyungsoo’s father had hit on the idea. After much thought, Chanyeol decided all signs pointed to money being the motivator. Chanyeol would be cheaper than a more mature, illustrious scholar and Kyungsoo’s family, while still wealthy, were starting to feel the effects of the recent shift in control. The land was being seized, and the nobility of Joseon was losing their resources by the day. Chanyeol came cheap in relative terms, and he had an excellent academic record, far better than Kyungsoo’s. 

“I’ve always liked to study,” Chanyeol murmured. “Funny how we are so different.”

“We aren’t that different.” Kyungsoo wiggled his feet, looking all kinds of bored. “We like most of the same things, we just disagree on a few.”

“Like studying,” Chanyeol pointed out. 

“Hm. Exactly. And which wine is better. “

“And how handsome I am,” Chanyeol joked.

“No, I think we agree on that,” Kyungsoo deadpanned, staring at Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol swallowed. “We do?”

“Don’t we?” Kyungsoo challenged, one of his eyebrows raising up in question. 

“Right.” Chanyeol snorted. Kyungsoo could have such a dry sense of humor sometimes. “Now, where did you stop reading?” He tapped his finger on the book.

Kyungsoo sighed. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Chanyeol said firmly. “If we don’t, I won’t have any money. If I don’t get paid, we can’t go out drinking, and if we can’t go out drinking, you’ll end up drunk by yourself and probably fall into the river.”

“Fine.” Kyungsoo huffed, reaching for his copy of the book. “Fine.”

Kyungsoo begrudgingly spits out where he had left off. Chanyeol spent the next few hours rotating between quizzing Kyungsoo and putting together a plan for the next day’s study session. Before he realized it, the sun was starting to set. Soon Kyungsoo’s mother would send dinner over on a tray, one for her son and one for Chanyeol. With it would inevitably be a small flagon of wine, the kind Chanyeol liked because Kyungsoo’s mother wanted to spoil him. It had been that way ever since he was young, sent by his parents to live in the Capital with cousins. Lady Do seemed to try to overcompensate for his lack of a parental presence. 

“Will you sleep in here with me tonight?” Kyungsoo asked, not looking up from his book. 

“Yes, of course,” Chanyeol readily agreed. He spent more nights curled up with Kyungsoo in the tiny study than he did sleeping in the cramped room at his cousin’s house. 

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol looked up from his book to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes. Kyungsoo was giving him a rare look that he could pinpoint the meaning behind. He saw regret in his friend’s gaze. “I’m sorry if I make your job more difficult.”

“No need to apologize. It’s fine, really.” Chanyeol would always squirm uncomfortably at these rare serious moments between them, not knowing what to say, and this was no exception. He preferred joking, or even the tutor-student exchanges to this. Chanyeol was never good at serious, mushy, talk-about-your-feelings conversations.

“No, I should be sorry. I make it more difficult for you.” Kyungsoo gently closed his book. “I should be grateful I get to spend all day with my best friend, not make his life a living hell for it.”

Chanyeol grinned, feeling a tug in his chest. “You really like me, don’t you?” It was strange how this friendship never failed to boost him up, make him feel like his life was worth something. As long as he had Kyungsoo at his side, he could do anything. 

“Of course,” Kyungsoo readily agreed. “I’ll always like you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol’s response got stuck in his throat. He looked away, back down at his book, missing the way Kyungsoo’s gaze lingered, a tinge of sadness contained within. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kyungsoo arrived a little after one o’clock at night, knocking politely on the door to Chanyeol’s hotel room. He came bearing gifts, apparently remembering his oversight the night before. He was carrying a small blue cooler, which he held up as soon as he was inside the room. 

“Still prefer A positive?” Kyungsoo asked. 

“Yeah.” Chanyeol smiled. “I’m touched, you remembered.” 

Kyungsoo grunted an “Of course,” as he pulled out two full blood pouches and thrust them towards Chanyeol.

Chanyeol managed to hold back his hunger enough not to tear them from Kyungsoo’s hands. He took them with thanks, turning a second later so he could drink to his heart’s content without looking like a starving animal. 

Chanyeol raised the first pouch to his lips and bit into the plastic, sucking greedily. The blood tasted divine, a testament to a quality blood bank. At least the food was good, that always made things a little easier. 

Kyungsoo walked to the desk, setting the cooler down. Something caught his eye, causing the vampire to lean over to inspect the item. 

“You still put models together?” Kyungsoo leaned down to look at the model ship, careful to not disturb it. Chanyeol had been attempting to make some progress on the boat, but it had less to do with the model and more to do with the fact he needed something to take his mind off Kyungsoo. 

“Yeah.” Chanyeol had never lost the hobby, retaining it from early-death, and many decades after. He had even lugged his model kit on his trip, careful to keep it safe when he crossed the ocean. 

Chanyeol finished his first pouch, tossing it in the nearby garbage. He tore the second pouch open with his teeth. It felt like he drank it down in record speed, a slurping noise sounding as he tried to take in every last drop. 

Kyungsoo straightened his back and looked over shoulder. “I remember you used to sit for hours working on your models.” Kyungsoo reached out his finger, tracing it lightly over the delicate bow of the ship. “Back when we lived in Berlin.”

Chanyeol watched Kyungsoo admire the model boat, doing his own admiring in the process. Kyungsoo looked good. He was dressed in tight jeans for the second night in a row, a black sweatshirt rounding out his outfit. His black hair was loose, a bit messy, likely from the wind. 

Had his best friend always been this handsome? He had, Chanyeol decided. Chanyeol knew Kyungsoo was one of the most attractive people he had ever laid eyes on.

“You mean, while you were busy deciding to become a painter?” Chanyeol turned away, walking towards the small sofa pressed against the wall. A flash of a memory, of a rundown loft near Berlin’s cabaret joints, flashed in his mind. A mental picture of Kyungsoo, paint smeared on his cheeks, standing for an hour, staring at the canvas he was never satisfied with. 

“I didn’t do too bad.” Kyungsoo moved away from the model ship and trailed after Chanyeol. “I even had a few galleries buy my stuff.”

“You had a few galleries that _wanted in your pan_ ts,” Chanyeol murmured. 

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Yeah, that too. But weren’t we all a little wilder back in those days?” 

Chanyeol took a seat on the sofa, his long legs knocking against the mauve colored ottoman that doubled as a coffee table. “We were. Berlin in the twenties was a hell of a place.” For a vampire, it was a paradise. Chanyeol could vividly remember the veritable feast that greeted him every night. 

Kyungsoo sunk into the chair. “Berlin in the twenties. Paris in the thirties. Seoul in the forties,” he rattled off, each city triggering memories in Chanyeol’s mind. 

“New York in the fifties, Paris again in the sixties,” Chanyeol continued. “And then we said goodbye.”

“Nineteen seventy-two, was it?” Kyungsoo crossed his legs. 

“Yes.” Chanyeol had so much more he could say on the matter aside from confirming the year, but he remained mum, afraid to dive into a painful memory. The day they stopped living together was burned into Chanyeol’s mind. It was something he had spent decades overthinking, decades trying too hard to understand. 

Now ––now he didn’t want to think of it. He wanted to move forward. 

Kyungsoo apparently disagreed. 

“We need to talk about what happened before.” Kyungsoo looked thoughtful. “I have a few things I need to say.”

Chanyeol gritted his teeth. “Alright. Talk.” 

“Do you remember why I said we should spend time apart?” Kyungsoo asked. He looked so serene, so calm and collected Chanyeol found it mildly annoying. 

“You said we had to grow up.” Chanyeol could recite Kyungsoo’s words from memory, he knew it by heart -- the night that he had come home to find Kyungsoo’s bags packed, their shared apartment suddenly too big and empty. “Time apart would do us good.”

“You do remember.” Kyungsoo nodded. It wasn’t smug or condescending, not the way it came off fifty years before. It was merely an acknowledgment. 

“Of course I do. I lost my best friend that day.” Chanyeol shifted in his seat, vividly recalling the sorrow he had felt so many years ago. It had been disorienting, maddening even, to lose Kyungsoo. To be alone. He had never been alone before. 

Over the years he had tried to understand why Kyungsoo suddenly wanted to live apart, why after a few months they weren’t even speaking long distance. He could never figure it out beyond deciding Kyungsoo had grown tired of him. 

“I um,” Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I did that back then. It wasn’t right.”

Chanyeol blinked. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes. Back then, I felt like I needed to stand on my own two feet, to know I could do it alone” Kyungsoo looked at him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I think it was a mistake. We lost a lot of good decades together, and for that, I’m sorry, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol was dumbstruck. Do Kyungsoo was actually apologizing to him? ”No, please don’t.” Chanyeol waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine. Time apart is good. It taught me how to um, make new friends. It was a good thing.”

Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows. “Was it?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol flashed a thumbs up. “If I were mad, I wouldn’t have come to find you, now would I?”

Kyungsoo chewed his bottom lip. “I guess not.”

The sudden knowledge that Kyungsoo had felt a sense of guilt was a hollow victory. It didn’t make up for the past, and it didn’t make the future any better per se. Chanyeol hated thinking there were bad feelings between them. The thought that there was unspoken bad blood had driven him nuts during their separation. And now knowing that Kyungsoo regretted it…. it was nice, but it wasn’t as helpful as he would have assumed. It was more of a sad ending to a long chapter that Chanyeol was ready to close. 

Chanyeol feigned a smile and then changed the subject, needing to drop something that could get ugly if he dwelled on it too long “So, what would you like to work out about our arrangement?”

Kyungsoo exhaled. He stared at the ottoman, eyes looking a little glassy. “I don’t even know where to begin.” 

“What if we began by going for a walk?” Chanyeol suggested. “We could go to the park. Or is there a movie you want to watch? There are late night theaters around here, I assume. Or we could go shopping or play a video game. We don’t have to work every detail out right away.”

“Will you move to Chicago?” Kyungsoo asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Chanyeol answered. “If you want to stay here, I’ll move.” 

He had considered his answer before he made the trip and knew he would accept the condition (and probably more if Kyungsoo asked). He wasn’t chained to living Seoul. He didn’t work, not in the same capacity that Kyungsoo apparently did. Chanyeol’s time was spent pursuing various hobbies, some of which resulted in cash (music) and some that didn’t (building tiny boats) but none that required him to stay in one place. 

“I want to stay here. I like my restaurant; I like this city.” Kyungsoo fidgeted with his hands. “I have an apartment over the restaurant, it’s big enough for both of us.”

Chanyeol smiled. He liked the way the conversation was going, the way Kyungsoo’s mouth moved when he said the word _us_. “Can’t wait to see it.”

Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “Maybe tomorrow you can come over.”

“I’d like that.” Chanyeol liked all of it, and for once in his undead life, he had to give Sehun some credit. Maybe it really was easy because they liked each other, because it just came naturally to them, this togetherness. That once they had worked out their past issues, everything would flow smoothly. Perhaps, Chanyeol thought, he could delude himself into thinking it would all fall into place like a magical puzzle, minimal effort aside from brief conversations about the past needed for the pieces to their spot.

Kyungsoo glanced around. They shared a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

“We can’t make it legal,” Kyungsoo said. “Immigration would get involved, and I don’t want the hassle.”

“I wasn’t expecting it to be legal.” Chanyeol had paperwork that said he was alive, an identification card and number, which was enough for him to buy a house, a car, and present some form of ID when asked. He even had a passport, which was a feat in and of itself since he didn’t show up on film (good thing there was some amazing editing software in existence now). It wasn’t enough, however, to hold up to a thorough vetting by immigration, which would likely occur if they insisted on a legally binding marriage license in the United States (green cards and all) “We should get a license, though. I know a good forger that should be able to make it for us.”

Kyungsoo nodded. More silence and then he was standing, fidgeting with his hands for the briefest moment, so short Chanyeol barely noticed. Kyungsoo was nervous and trying not to show it. _Interesting._

“We should watch a movie.” Kyungsoo gestured towards the flat screen television. 

Chanyeol hadn’t turned the thing on yet, preferring to pull out his laptop instead of messing around with the unfamiliar channel lineup. “Yeah, if you want. You can pick.”

Kyungsoo grabbed for the remote and went to work sorting through their options. They ended up agreeing to watch some comedy that Chanyeol quickly forgot the title of. The lead actor looked vaguely familiar, but Chanyeol couldn’t place him. Kyungsoo flicked the lights off and they settled in to watch, seated in the stiff hotel room furniture. 

Chanyeol didn’t intend to pay more attention to Kyungsoo than he did to the movie, it just happened. Watching Kyungsoo, eyes glued to the screen, sent his mind drifting back to the first time Kyungsoo had ever gone to a theater, his expression one of pure awe. Chanyeol had been just as amazed, unable to look away from the grainy footage that was projected on the theater wall. They had stumbled out of the theater surprised at where the world was going, discussing the possibility of what could come next. 

“It was a Japanese film, but I don’t remember the title,” Kyungsoo said, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Huh?” 

Kyungsoo looked over. “The first movie we watched. It was a Japanese film. We saw it at the Dansungsa Theater.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol looked back at the screen, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He would ask how Kyungsoo knew what he was thinking about, except it seemed like a frivolous question. They had spent almost a hundred years together; a fifty-year absence couldn’t erase that. 

“I can’t remember the last one, though.” Kyungsoo sighed.

“Woman of Fire. We both hated it.” Chanyeol smirked. “You said the only good thing about it was the farm.”

“It’s true! I still hate that film,” Kyungsoo grumbled. “Ruined the first one for me.”

“I thought you said _I_ ruined the first one for you by telling you the ending.”

“Ugh, please don’t remind me.” Kyungsoo pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. 

Chanyeol smiled. They were bantering like old friends. He had missed this so much –– talking about nothing for hours on end, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The closest Chanyeol had to that feeling since Kyungsoo had left was Sehun, but it still wasn’t the same. No one could replace Kyungsoo for him. No one. 

They ended up talking through most of the movie and then putting on a second one. Chanyeol had to remind Kyungsoo the sun would be up soon, afraid that he wouldn’t notice. 

“Let me sleep here,” Kyungsoo said, glancing at the king size bed. “I’m tired.”

“You’re dead, you can’t be tired,” Chanyeol drawled, hoping he was doing a good job masking his excitement at the idea of Kyungsoo sleeping next to him. 

“Okay, fine. I want to be unconscious on your hotel room bed because I am lazy. Happy?” Kyungsoo asked, rolling his eyes. 

“Very,” Chanyeol responded. He stretched his legs out and watch Kyungsoo out of the corner of his eye. After a minute of silence, the movie droning on, Chanyeol asked it. “Can I be the little spoon?”

“Fine, whatever. Just let me finish watching this.” Kyungsoo waved him away.

Chanyeol couldn’t remember what sleep felt like, it had been too long since his body was alive for him to recall. The unconsciousness vampires fell into each day couldn’t really be called sleep - there were no dreams, and the concept of well-rested didn’t exist for them. It was a nothingness that passed the time in which they were unable to go outside. 

Sleep or not, Chanyeol could say whatever he spent his day doing was a hundred times better with cuddling. He threw himself onto the bed, letting the mattress bounce under him. He pushed the covers back and got in. Once the movie was over, Kyungsoo padded to the bed, lifting the white comforter and slipping in under the sheets.

“Little spoon,” Chanyeol whispered, just-in-case-Kyungsoo-forgot. 

He hadn’t. Chanyeol only had to wait a moment before Kyungsoo was behind him, his arm wrapped around Chanyeol’s middle. Chanyeol’s back was pressed against Kyungsoo’s chest. They were both cold, death tended to do that to a person, so the embrace wasn’t warm. But it was safety and affection and something Chanyeol had missed sorely over the preceding decades. 

“Go to sleep,” Kyungsoo whispered, pressing his face lightly against the space between Chanyeol’s broad shoulders. 

Chanyeol smiled. “Goodnight, Kyungsoo.”

“It’s _good day,_ ” Kyungsoo mumbled. “Good day” A few seconds later and he had drifted off into nothingness.

“Good day,” Chanyeol corrected himself, falling into his own version of nothingness a few seconds later. 

When Chanyeol woke up, Kyungsoo was gone. A moment of panic set in until he spotted the hastily scrawled note on the side table. 

_Went to prepare the restaurant. Stop by after close, and I’ll show you the apartment._

_Kyungsoo_

_PS let housekeeping in, your room is a mess._

Chanyeol smiled dumbly at the note, not moving until he realized how stupid he probably looked. Standing in his wrinkled clothing, smiling at the chicken scratch that was Kyungsoo’s handwriting, looking at it like it was the most precious thing on earth. He groaned, balling up the note and tossing it in the small metal wastebasket. He was pathetic.

 _Pathetically_ …pathetically _in_ …...in l--- No.He didn’t want to put two more words after that. At least not yet. 

“So, how did you two meet, anyway?” Baekhyun asked, rolling the straw from his pink lemonade between his thumb and index finger, drops of sticky lemonade landing on the clean bar. 

They were seated at the long faux marble bar in Kyungsoo’s restaurant. The place was closed, Baekhyun having mopped and wiped the counters and tables down while Kyungsoo closed up the kitchen. Chanyeol had taken a seat and waited patiently, trying not to judge the decor too harshly this time. 

“We knew each other since we were children. For a while I was his teacher,” Chanyeol explained. 

“Holy shit, that’s kinky.” The straw slipped from his fingers and went flying from his drink, but Baekhyun didn’t seem to care. “I never would have guessed the Boss was into something like _that._ ”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “What is _that_?”

“You know, roleplay, kinky teacher stude-”

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Kyungsoo interrupted walking out from the back of the restaurant. 

Baekhyun smiled wickedly in his general direction, earning a curious look from his boss. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Baekhyun said. He hopped down from the bar stool, his sneakers squeaking on the floor. “Nice seeing you Chanyeol. Boss.” He waved, offering one last shit-eating grin before he was heading for the door. 

“What was that about?” Kyungsoo asked, eyebrow quirking up. 

“I have no idea,” Chanyeol admitted. “He’s a bit strange.”

“Hmm, but he’s an extremely talented waiter.” Kyungsoo agreed. “Ready to see the new place?”

“Yes, of course.” Chanyeol stood, sliding the stool back into place. “What made you go for a vampire theme?” he asked, careful not to sound too judgmental. 

“Easy cover. People don't think it’s odd if we’re only open at night or get creeped out if they see blood. They just assume it’s fake.” Kyungsoo shrugged. “It lets me be me while, um, pretending _not to be m_ e.”

“Smart.” Chanyeol kind of wished he had thought of that, except he had absolutely no talent for running a restaurant. Not like Kyungsoo, who had managed plenty of eateries in his post-death existence. It was something Chanyeol found endearing, the fact that even if he couldn’t eat, he still liked to cook, finding joy in being in a kitchen, creating new recipes.

“The door to the apartment is through the kitchen,” Kyungsoo explained. 

Chanyeol trailed after him, through a swinging black door. He was surprised to see the kitchen wasn’t as dark and gloomy as the rest of the place – it had white floors and walls, bright lighting and spotless stainless-steel tables and appliances. 

Chanyeol was so busy taking it all in he didn’t notice how low hanging the pots and pan rack was until his forehead collided with a cast iron pot. He yelped, his hand flying to his head. “Your kitchen attacked me,” he faked a whine.

“That it did,” Kyungsoo said in a dry tone, continuing towards the back of the kitchen. Chanyeol stumbled after him, shooting the pan rack a dirty look for good measure. 

There was a hallway at the back of the kitchen, with entries to the freezers and coolers as well as a room for dry storage and a small space for employees to put their things. At the end of the hall, next to the big security door that leads to the back, was another door, a keypad on the wall next to it. 

Kyungsoo flipped open the pad and typed in the passcode, a beep sounding a minute later. “The code is my birthday,” he explained. “You remember it?”

“January 12th,” Chanyeol responded without missing a beat. Kyungsoo smiled at him. “You do remember.” 

He pushed the door open, revealing a narrow staircase. The stairs were lit with thin yellow lights, casting a soft glow against the white walls that hugged the stairwell. Kyungsoo jogged up the stairs like only someone who had taken them thousands of times could. Chanyeol was a little clumsier as he climbed up the tight space, stubbing his toe against the second to the bottom step. 

“There are three bedrooms, and one and a half bathrooms. It isn’t the grandest place I’ve ever owned, but it has space and character,” Kyungsoo said. “I recently did a remodel, so you’ll have to excuse any mess you see.”

When Chanyeol reached the landing, he found himself taken aback by what he saw. He wanted to rub his eyes; sure it was all a hallucination.

“You used to like the color black,” Chanyeol sputtered. He turned around, soaking it all in, trying to understand how––

“Yes, but pink is so much cheerier, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo walked over to his hot pink sofa and took a seat. 

“It looks like Barbie exploded in your apartment, Soo.” Chanyeol glanced at the kitchen, the space was open concept, teach room flowing into the next with a large cathedral ceiling overhead. Pink stove. Pink refrigerator. Pink dishtowels, pink tile, pink….

Pink.

So. Much. Pink.

“Baekhyun got me onto the color, and I came to like it.” Kyungsoo frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no, not at all.” Chanyeol gritted his teeth. He was going to move into the Barbie dream house. Fuck. It gave him a headache just seeing the stuff for a moment, he couldn’t imagine living in it. “Moderation, however, is um, there is a saying, but I can’t remember it.”

“I like pink,” Kyungsoo said firmly. 

“And I am sure I will grow to like it too.” Chanyeol plastered a smile on his face. He would. He could.He could learn to love pink more than anything else if it made Kyungsoo happy because inevitably Kyungsoo being happy meant he would be happy too. 

Fifty years apart had made it all too obvious how intertwined his happiness was with his former best friend. “Are we fiancés now?” Chanyeol blurted out, suddenly realizing a friend might not be the best descriptor. 

“I suppose we are.” Kyungsoo stood. “Now come on, let me give you the grand tour.”

 _Fiancée._ Chanyeol was sure he was grinning like an idiot. He trailed after Kyungsoo, into the pink paradise of his apartment, the color’s fury slowly dissipating in Chanyeol’s mind. 

~~~❦~~~

_1895_

_Seoul_

“And I said, you have to add another room it won’t work without it.” Kyungsoo’s cup dropped to the floor, a few droplets of win spilling against the wooden table. He hiccupped, sucking in a deep breath before he continued to speak. “He said no. It won’t work. We don’t have the means.”

“Then what did you do?” Chanyeol sipped from his cup, looking over the edge at Kyungsoo. His friend was flushed red, his hat tilted on his head. 

“I said it doesn’t matter if––“ Kyungsoo hiccupped and leaned forward. His back jolted twice with another round of hiccups. 

Chanyeol finished the wine in his cup and tossed it on the ground, letting it roll alongside Kyungsoo’s discarded cup.

“Chanyeol, what wassssss I talking about?” Kyungsoo asked, slurring his words. 

“I don’t remember.” Chanyeol slumped onto the ground, stretching out his long legs, the white of his undergarments poking out from under his yellow robe. He felt dizzy and warm. 

“Hmm. Neither do-“ _Hiccup_ , “I.”

Kyungsoo smiled like a fool. “That’s why we get along, Chanyeol. We alwayssss understand each other.” Hiccup. “I love you, you know that, right? I love you.”

Chanyeol nodded, his movements too big they were comical. “Me too. I love you too. You’re my best friend.”

“Master Do,” a voice cut through the drunken words of affection. 

Chanyeol squinted towards the sound of the voice, managing to make out three of the servant who had shown them to their table a few hours prior. How did he duplicate? Or triplicate? Chanyeol wagged his finger in the direction of the identical servants, trying to get them to stop swaying. “What is it?”

“Someone is here for you,” the servant said. 

“Okay.” Kyungsoo hiccupped once more. He tried to sit up straight but swayed to one side, ending up on the ground. 

Chanyeol heard footsteps, which sounded like heavy boots. He stared across the ground, Kyungsoo was staring back at him. They were both so drunk that all they could manage to do was smile at each other like a couple of fools. 

“Kyungsoo.”

Chanyeol thought he recognized the voice, but in his drunken stupor, he couldn’t place it. 

“Kyungsoo, my boy, are you that drunk?” It was a servant of Kyungsoo’s father. Chanyeol closed his eyes. So sleepy. He was so sleepy. 

“Yessss,” Kyungsoo sing-songed from the ground. “Yes, I am.”

  
  


Five hours later, Chanyeol had his back pressed against the wall of the study in Kyungsoo’s parent’s home, his knees hugged to his chest. He had a splitting headache and was fighting against a wave of nausea. He was sober now, having had little choice but to shake off his drunkenness the moment Kyungsoo’s father’s servant insisted they return home post haste. He wished he was asleep, or at least had some more water to sip on. 

He wouldn’t sleep, however until Kyungsoo was back. Even in his drunken state, Chanyeol could tell something extraordinary had happened. Kyungsoo’s father never sent for them like that, not without good cause. Chanyeol spotted the family patriarch, a brief glimpse before he headed for the study, and he could see the serious, almost grave, look on his face. A sinking feeling settled in Chanyeol’s gut.

When the door to the study slid open, Chanyeol perked up, craning his neck to see who it was. A few seconds later, Kyungsoo ambled in, looking as bad as Chanyeol felt. His robe was still stained from the wine, and his hair was sticking up out of his topknot. Chanyeol was surprised that he hadn’t insisted on changing before he met with his father. It was further proof something serious was going on. 

“What is it?” Chanyeol asked, trying to keep his voice down. 

Kyungsoo slid the door closed behind him. He sunk to the floor, his shoulders slumping inward. He stared at the floor for a moment before looking at Chanyeol. “It’s gone.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “What’s gone?”

“The money. It’s gone. Soldiers will be here tomorrow evening.” Kyungsoo frowned. “Everything was seized by the Japanese, and the governor has signed off on it. Treason, they say, but it is because they want the land the house is on. They want to build a railroad. We don’t have anywhere to live.”

“You can’t be serious!” Chanyeol felt a fire light inside of him. He was indignant. The Do family was the opposite of traitors. He had never once seen them do anything against their country or the crown. “Your uncle can’t do anything to stop this? The Japanese like bribes, I heard that Master Pa–“

“No, Chanyeol. It’s done.” Kyungsoo shook his head. Only then did Chanyeol notice the glisten in his friend’s eyes, the tears that had not yet fallen. It hurt his heart to know this was happening to his best friend. “We need to leave tomorrow morning. If we try to stop this, it will only get worse. They could hang us for these charges.”

Chanyeol felt numb. He wished he could make it all go away. The Do family were like his own family, he had spent more time with them than he had with his parents. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, trying hard not to cry. 

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo started. His voice was raspy. He scooted across the floor, towards his friend. “Chanyeol, hold me.”

Chanyeol didn’t have to be asked twice. He opened his arms, letting Kyungsoo slip into them and rest his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. A few seconds later, he felt his friend’s shoulders shake and knew that Kyungsoo was crying. 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whispered, his heart breaking. ”Kyungsoo.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! Please note that the fic has been extended to six parts. Tags have also been added, so please heed the new warnings (particularly the graphic violence, which will occur in parts four and five). The final part is almost done and will be posted later this week.

“You disgust me.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at the laptop screen. He knew precisely what facial expression Sehun would be making - if he could see him. Instead, he glared at the empty chair, adding an “I’m giving you a death look FYI,” so Sehun would know how annoyed he was.

Seriously, vampire Skyping was an exercise in patience or stupidity, maybe both. Probably both.

“Already dead so it won’t work on me,” Sehun pointed out for the umpteenth time. “And you need to hear it. You seriously have no idea how in love you are with him, do you? Because it’s disgusting to listen to. If I were still alive, I’d end it just so I wouldn’t have to hear you anymore.”

“We’re–”

“Friends. Right. Chanyeol, friends don’t get married and little spoon, or spend an hour listing off the reasons pink is a great color because now that Kyungsoo likes it, you have seen the Great. Pink. Light,” Sehun tutted. “I don’t understand why you can’t just admit it.”

_“I can’t be in love with someone who doesn’t love me back,”_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he never got to say the words. A loud knock sounded on the hotel room door.

Chanyeol turned to look at the door, frowning.

“Who is it?” Sehun asked in a low voice, having heard the noise through their Skype session.

“I don’t know. I have a Do Not Disturb sign on the door,” Chanyeol whispered. Housekeeping had been leaving him alone during the day, heeding the DND door tag. He hadn’t ordered room service, and the only person who knew where he was staying was Kyungsoo. Could it be Kyungsoo?

Chanyeol perked up and moved off the bed, feeling a tug of excitement at the prospect Kyungsoo had come to see him unannounced. He padded towards the door, his socks rubbing against the carpeting.

“Chicago Police Department. Open up,” a deep voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Chanyeol froze in place.

“Chicago police,” the voice repeated. “Open the door.”

What in the hell were the police doing there? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had remained in the hotel room during the day, and at night he had only ventured out to Kyungsoo’s restaurant. He hadn’t drank from anyone, the only blood he had so far was what Kyungsoo brought him.

Another loud bang sounded. “Chicago Police Department. Open the door.” The voice was more aggressive this time.

Suddenly, the doorknob was turning. The lock started to turn and click, making a grating sound.

“We’re coming in,” the voice shouted.

Chanyeol glimpsed the lock being snapped to the side, and panic fully set in. He darted for the laptop, grabbing it and hugging it to his chest.

He heard the door hit the wall hard. He rushed for the large window, knowing he needed to escape. He had no idea what was going on, but being alive over a hundred years had taught him that it was best not to be captured by the police.

His body hit the window with a thud. The glass shattered, the weight of the impact fracturing and breaking the windowpane apart. Suddenly the wind was rushing at him, stinging against his face. The sidewalk was coming at him fast, thankfully it wasn’t crowded since it was evening. On the way to the ground, he could hear Sehun screaming through the laptop speakers, “What in the fuck is going on!?”

Kyungsoo looked Chanyeol up and down, concern painted on his face. A shard of glass fell from Chanyeol’s hair, landing on the clean kitchen floor. “What in the hell happened to you?!”

“Would you mind if I move into your apartment a little sooner than we originally planned?” Chanyeol asked. He was hugging a cracked laptop to his chest. His clothing was torn, and there was a nasty, dry cut on his arm. He wasn’t sure about his face because even if he had found a mirror on his way over to the restaurant, it wouldn’t really work for him because _vampire_.

“What? Why? What in the hell is going on?”

“The police showed up at my hotel room, and from what I gathered by listening as I ran away, The housekeeper _may_ have found the empty blood pouches you bought me yesterday and _may_ have called the police and I _may_ be under investigation for something or other right now.” Chanyeol waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture. “I’m too fragile to go to prison so I decided jumping out a twelfth story window would be the best course of action.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything. He took a step forward and reached up, picking a piece of glass from Chanyeol’s hair.

Chanyeol swallowed and stared, suddenly hyper-aware of how close Kyungsoo was to him. Kyungsoo looked worried, which made Chanyeol feel an intense sense of guilt. His gaze drifted from Kyungsoo’s eyes, from his furrowed brow, lower, to his lips. If he leaned in just a little bit, he could probably kis--

“Go upstairs. You remember the code, right?” Kyungsoo took a step back, breaking the spell.

“Your birthday.” Chanyeol flashed a thumbs up, willing himself to calm down.

“Hmm.” Kyungsoo gestured towards the kitchen. “I’ll finish work a little early tonight, there is an assistant chef here that can close. Go upstairs and get settled, I will see you in a few hours.”

A few hours. Chanyeol hugged his laptop and padded down the hall, towards the apartment door. A few hours in a pink palace, awaiting his fiancée, after jumping out of a Hilton window to avoid cops. He hadn’t had so much fun in ages.

Kyungsoo eyed the mound of glass that sat on his pink kitchen counter.

“Did you get it all?”

Chanyeol looked at the gaping hole in his arm, inspecting it under the fuchsia lamp in the living room. He didn't see any more shards glistening in the light. “I think so.” Thankfully it would heal quickly, vampirism had some benefits.

Kyungsoo sighed, sweeping the glass into his palm and then depositing it in the hot pink garbage.

“You need a shower,” Kyungsoo said, walking into the living room.

Chanyeol looked down at his torn clothing, streaked with dirt. Falling from the twelfth story of a building was not a hygienic exercise by any means. “Do you have any clothes I can borrow? I left my suitcase back at the hotel.”

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo started to walk towards the master bedroom but stopped short. “Hey, I need a shower too. Mind if I join you?”

Chanyeol wasn’t sure he understood. “What?”

“Shower. Together,” Kyungsoo repeated, a little louder this time.

Chanyeol felt like his hesitation meant something. They had showered together lots of times in the past, but suddenly, the question seemed more burdensome and more challenging to agree to. Chanyeol stared back dumbly, unable to answer.

“We’re going to get married, Chanyeol. We need to get used to each other again,” Kyungsoo said dryly.

“Okay,” Chanyeol squeaked. “Sure.” Seriously, what was wrong with him?

They had bathed together plenty of times in the past. Back when they were human, they used to go to the hot springs together, soaking into the steaming water and relaxing away their aches and pains. This would be the same, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Chanyeol could count on one hand how many times he had been this uncomfortable and confused. There was the time Sehun convinced him it was a good idea to walk around on the bottom of the ocean because “dude, we won’t die, and we should see what’s down there.” A close second was the time he was in an airplane crash, and of course, jumping out a window at a Chicago Hilton was high up on the list as well. 

Do Kyungsoo, naked, shampoo wet in his dark hair, water streaming down his body, down his back, over his pert ass. Haloed in pink, a pink loofah in his hands, pink tile, a pink ceiling, so much damn pink Chanyeol forgot all about because suddenly the only thing that mattered was ogling his best friend.

Chanyeol felt a sense of shame. When had things changed? Was it the years apart that had done it? Of course, he had always found Kyungsoo handsome (who wouldn’t?), but this immense physical attraction was entirely new. He was looking not in a wow-he’s-handsome sort of way but in an I-want kind of way, and he had no idea how to process the shift.

Sehun might have said it was all obvious, but to Chanyeol it wasn’t. Nothing about his situation was obvious and straightforward, at least not anymore, not with the physical pull he felt towards Kyungsoo.

“Can you hand me the soap?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes closed to avoid the shampoo suds that were falling onto his face.

“Y-yeah.” Chanyeol grabbed for the (predictably pink) shower gel, praying to any deity that might listen that he wouldn’t sprout a boner where Kyungsoo could see it. Thankfully he hadn’t eaten in several hours, so he wasn’t brimming with blood that could rush straight to his dick.

Chanyeol set the bottle in Kyungsoo’s hand and took a step back, trying to put more distance between them. He misjudged just how cramped the shower was, his back colliding with the faucet. He jumped back in surprise, attempting to turn around and see what he hit. From there, it was a blur.

Chanyeol slipped, his foot going out from under him. He grabbed for anything to keep him upright, his hand, unfortunately, contacted Kyungsoo’s shoulder, he pulled him down with him. Chanyeol yelped, his back colliding with the shower floor. Kyungsoo shouted in surprise as he was dragged down.

It only lasted a few seconds at most, but Chanyeol could swear he saw it play out in slow motion. It was horrifying, the realization he was falling, the realization he was falling and dragging Kyungsoo with him. Particularly horrifying was the feeling of Kyungsoo landing on him, their chests pressed together, faces only an inch apart, lips almost touching.

Even more horrifying was when Chanyeol realized a second later his hand was on Kyungsoo’s ass and oh, well, he might be squeezing it.

Chanyeol stared at Kyungsoo, wide-eyed, too disoriented to move. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

And then Kyungsoo was smiling at him, laughter spilling out of his mouth.

“You’re still the clumsiest vampire I know,” Kyungsoo said, pushing himself off Chanyeol.

Chanyeol let him go, staring dumbly at the ceiling, afraid to move, fearful that if he did, the world would throw something else at him. Tonight was definitely not his night.

And then Kyungsoo’s hand was jutting out towards him, helping him up. “Come on, you’re still dirty,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol took the offered hand, terrified but knowing he couldn't spend the rest of his life on the pink tile floor of Kyungsoo’s bathroom. “Am I?” he said lamely.

“Yeah “Kyungsoo pulled his back into the shower, laughter echoing in the small room.

Chanyeol kept waiting for Kyungsoo to say something about the shower, to yell at Chanyeol for grabbing his ass or say they should never shower together in the future, but he didn’t. Instead, Kyungsoo seemed preoccupied with showing Chanyeol around the restaurant and around the apartment, giving a more thorough tour once the business was closed.

Chanyeol followed him like an eager puppy, making mental notes of all the things Kyungsoo pointed out. He knew where to find flour and how the door to the storage room often got stuck. He could find the rectangular boxes needed to change out the soda machine, and he had a newfound rudimentary knowledge of how the ice machine worked.

“Are you sure you aren’t trying to hire me?” Chanyeol asked after Kyungsoo explained the cash register to him.

“If you’re going to be the part-owner, you need to know how the business works.” Kyungsoo pressed a button, the order total showing on the screen.

“Partial owner?” Chanyeol narrowed his eyes.

“I assumed if we’re married, we’ll share the restaurant,” Kyungsoo explained. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Chanyeol lied.

“This is how you get to the drink menu.” Kyungsoo pushed tab on the keyboard, bringing up a list of drinks with names like MaliBoo and Vampire Weakness.

“Our marriage won’t be legal, though.” Chanyeol felt the need to clarify the point again because it was terrifying to imagine he would own something Kyungsoo loved so much. He was scared he would mess it up somehow.

“I still want you to have half of the restaurant. It’s only right,” Kyungsoo said firmly before returning to his how-to lecture.

Chanyeol tried to pretend that he was listening, but his mind was moving quickly, jumping from memories of the shower to the panic of having anything to do with the restaurant, back to the shower and then settling on a general feeling of unease.

Kyungsoo picked up on it. He stopped talking and turned away from the cash register to face his friend. “What’s wrong? You’re worried about something.”

Chanyeol swallowed. “Kyungsoo,” he started slowly, “Are you sure you want to go through with the wedding?” It came out completely wrong, evidenced by the flash of hurt that crossed Kyungsoo’s face.

Chanyeol held his hands up. “N-No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to fix the damage he had done. “I meant, this place.” He gestured to the dining room, to the cash register. “It means a lot to you. I’m touched you want me to own part of it, but are you sure? Are you certain? I don’t want to--”

“You won’t mess anything up. Stop worrying,” Kyungsoo interrupted. “Give yourself some credit. You only burnt down one small village in the time I’ve known you. I would say that is a pretty good track record. Definitely upstanding enough to own a restaurant.” He smirked.

“Hey! It was an accident!” Chanyeol protested.

“Exactly. See, you’re ready to own your own restaurant.” Kyungsoo clapped Chanyeol on the back. “Definitely ready.”

“You can have the guest bedroom if you want. I mean, if it would make you more comfortable,” Kyungsoo offered. They had finished their combination restaurant tour and training session, ending up back in the Den of Pink. “And I was thinking about it. If you want to change some of the decor that’s fine. I want this to be your home too.”

“I think I like pink now,” Chanyeol said, almost believing it. He had told Sehun it was growing on him, right? “As for the bedroom, we can sleep in the same bed if um, if you don’t mind.”

“Little spoon?” Kyungsoo said, quirking his eyebrow.

“Little spoon.” Chanyeol nodded. “But we can switch if you want.”

Kyungsoo’s bedroom was simply decorated, the walls a dusting of pink, the sheets were grey. The dresser was black, and some of the small decor pieces were anti-pink as well. Chanyeol liked this room the best of all the areas in the apartment. It showed the old Kyungsoo, the one he remembered, but it didn’t shut out the new Kyungsoo either. The bed was a King size and long, perfect for Chanyeol, who often had a tough time finding a bed he could fit in without his legs hanging off. And of course, the best part of the room was that Kyungsoo would be there too. No way in hell would he slink off to the guest bedroom instead of spending the day curled up with Kyungsoo by his side.

A random thought occurred to Chanyeol, and he blurted it out before thinking. “How’d you know I was worried about before?”

“The same way you knew I’d say yes before you even got here,” Kyungsoo said cryptically, before changing the subject. “You want to watch something? Or we could go for that walk you talked about the other night.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” Chanyeol agreed, hoping that time outside would do him good. His mind was a mess, and he needed the fresh air.

It was a cold night, not that it mattered to either man, the cold was a perpetual state of being for them. They still bundled up, needing to blend in and not draw unwanted attention to themselves. Chanyeol sported a red and white hat that Kyungsoo lent him, the kind with a fuzzy ball of yarn at the top. He had on thick gloves and a jacket two sizes too small, another borrow from Kyungsoo’s wardrobe.

“Are you hungry?” Kyungsoo asked as soon as they stepped outside.

“Famished,” Chanyeol admitted. He hadn’t eaten since Kyungsoo had given him the blood pouches, the ones that kicked off a chain reaction that ended with him jumping out of a hotel window.

“We can go to the blood bank. It’s not that far away.” Kyungsoo shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s a nice walk, the city’s quiet at this time.”

Chanyeol nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the restaurant sign flickering, one of the letters burning out. Chanyeol looked up at the sign, which glowed a red neon when the place was open.

_The Eleven Twelve Club_

“What does the name mean?” Chanyeol asked, gesturing towards the sign.

“It sounds mysterious, but it doesn’t mean anything. I just liked the numbers,” Kyungsoo explained. “Now come on. Jongdae gets testy if you come too late in the night.”

Chanyeol trudged after Kyungsoo. It really was quiet at that time of night. Dare Chanyeol even call it peaceful. They walked in comfortable silence for a while until Chanyeol thought to ask the question, “Why Chicago? I mean, why did you choose to move here?” He had never even considered the city as a place to live, he had no idea how Kyungsoo had landed upon it. It was large, a metropolis, but it was out of the way, not close to anywhere they had once lived. 

“Everywhere else seemed to remind me of you,” Kyungsoo answered without missing a beat. He didn't look over at Chanyeol as he said the charged words. “We’d never been here before.”

Chanyeol felt a tug in his chest. “Kyungsoo,” he said softly.

“It’s fine. It was my idea to part ways, remember?” Kyungsoo offered a small smile. “You asked, so I told you.”

Chanyeol stepped closer, lessening the space between them as they walked. “You’ll have to fill me in on what you did over the years, I mean, aside from opening the tackiest vampire restaurant in Chicago.”

Kyungsoo pretended to punch Chanyeol’s arm, stopping short of doing so. “It’s not _that_ tacky.”

“Yes, it is,” Chanyeol quipped.

“You just have shit taste in vampire restaurants.” Kyungsoo stopped walking. They were at a crosswalk, the light flickering orange. Kyungsoo looked both ways before he looped his arm through Chanyeol’s and tugged him across the road. “And you need to tell me too. I want to know what you did all this time. Sehun mentioned you every now and then but didn’t really give me details. “

“Now and then,” Chanyeol scoffed. “That brat. I talk to him almost every day.”

“So do I. Didn’t he mention me?”

Chanyeol mumbled a _no_. Sehun hadn’t said anything about Kyungsoo until he had asked. In fact, Chanyeol hadn’t even been confident they were still in touch.

“The brat,” Kyungsoo huffed.

At least they could agree on that.

“So, did you date anyone while we were apart?” Kyungsoo’s voice was quiet, small even if Chanyeol was honest.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol admitted. “I mean, I was with someone. Wouldn’t call it dating, but we were together for a bit.” Song Joong Ki was handsome and charming. He was a vampire much older than Chanyeol. The sex was amazing, and they got along, at least for a couple of years. When Joong Ki announced he was relocating to Prague, Chanyeol couldn’t find the motivation to follow him. It was an amicable split.

“Oh.” Kyungsoo didn’t say more, and the two-letter word suddenly sounded more ominous than Chanyeol could ever recall.

“You always used to have way more lovers than me,” Chanyeol rambled, trying to fill the ominous void. “I mean, back in the day.” He wasn’t sure if he was helping things or hurting them.

Kyungsoo hummed in acknowledgment, a low noise that came out more of a grunt.

“Hell, I think half of Berlin was in love with you. And Paris, Seoul. God, I wish I had even ten percent of your talent at getting laid.” Chanyeol whistled. “You’ve always been impressive.” Except apparently not for the last fifty years, which was surprising. It made Chanyeol feel victorious for some sick reason, knowing Kyungsoo had been alone, but it also came as quite a shock.

For almost eighty years, Chanyeol had watched them come and go. Some human, some vampire, all looking at Kyungsoo like he was their grand prize.

“Can we talk about something else?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Um, yeah, of course.” Chanyeol looked around, grasping at imaginary straws. “Tell me about Chicago.”

Kyungsoo started to talk about the city they had come to love, but Chanyeol wasn’t listening. Instead, he was thinking, remembering back to the men and women Kyungsoo had brought home with him, specifically the ones he had told Chanyeol he loved. He could remember how it felt when these new people would make a dent in their lives, a full-force invasion before a hasty retreat. Chanyeol remembered the bitter jealousy that would well up in him when Kyungsoo would be gone for days on end, never bothering to telephone him. It stung when he was alone.

But he could also recall being on the receiving end of the jealous, petty stares as well, the looks Kyungsoo would give him when he came back from a few day bender, marks on his neck, his stomach filled with blood. Inevitably they would always grow closer after those times, leave less, cling to each other more–– until they repeated the cycle all over again.

_Best friends._

The Blood Bank was housed in the back of a neoclassical building, a grey stone facade that had seen better days. The word Bank was etched into the stone above the front door, a glass revolving contraption that was now boarded up, the glass having fallen victim to some unknown calamity. From the outside, the building looked deserted, dark, and closed up like the rest of the neighborhood. Chanyeol wasn’t familiar with the city, but he was reasonably sure wherever they were wasn’t considered a good part of town.

Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s arm and tugged him down a long alley next to the building. They walked past a torn open garbage bag; the contents strewn on the cracked sidewalk. The alley was pitch dark and smelled like human waste and spoiled food. Chanyeol wrinkled his nose and attempted not to smell the foul odor. At the back of the building, an entrance was tucked into the cracked stone. Kyungsoo took out his phone and shot off a quick text.

A few seconds later, the door clicked open, revealing a dark and somewhat ominous hallway.

Chanyeol trailed after Kyungsoo, stepping inside the building and letting the door slam shut behind him. Kyungsoo started down the hall, explaining as he walked. “The keeper’s name is Jongdae, but he prefers if you call him JD. He’s Korean.”

“Wow, really?” Chanyeol was amazed. Perhaps Chicago would be a better place to live than initially thought. Not having a language barrier with the food guy helped things, his English was rusty.

“Yeah. He’s lived here since he died. Got into the Keeper business soon after, probably is sitting on more money than either of us can imagine.” They reached another door. Kyungsoo raised his hand and rapped out three short knocks and then one longer one. Again, a few seconds passed before the door was opened.

They stepped inside a large room which Chanyeol could only describe as antiseptic: white, clean, cold, and institutional looking.

Shortly after the invention of refrigeration and the beginning of the practice of humans giving blood, a boom had happened in the vampire community. Blood Banks catered to Vampires with means, providing them nourishment without the hassle of having to find a human to feed off. Their sources were different - stolen from human blood banks, taken from willing human thralls or a combination of both. Chanyeol doesn't particularly care about the source of the blood if he was honest, nor did he care about the ambiance of the Blood Bank. He had visited all types of Blood Banks in his undead life, some were decorated like a bar or restaurant, some like a club. And some, like this one, had the look of a medical facility.

“Kyungsoo, my friend.”

Chanyeol watched a lanky vampire approach, his arms held out wide, his lips upturned into a Cheshire grin. He was wearing a white lab coat and green scrubs, his chestnut-colored hair cut short and neat. He grabbed Kyungsoo into a bone-crushing hug which had Chanyeol eyeing him with suspicion. Kyungsoo wasn’t really the hugging type, especially around people he wasn’t close friends with.

“How have you been?” Jongdae held Kyungsoo at arm's length, patting his shoulder affectionately. He looked young, probably their age when he was turned.

“Good. This is Park Chanyeol, the one I was telling you about.” Kyungsoo nodded towards Chanyeol.

Chanyeol stepped forward and bowed his head towards Jongdae. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Jongdae quipped, “I’ve been dying to meet Kyungsoo’s ex-boyfriend ever since he mentioned you.”

“He’s not my ex-boyfriend,” Kyungsoo hissed, shooting Chanyeol an apologetic look. He looked flustered, the same expression on his face as when Chanyeol would playfully tease him about his cooking.

Jongdae ignored him. “I hear congratulations are in order.” He stepped in front of Chanyeol, offering him a warm smile. “I hear you two are engaged. It’s a shame, I like tall men. I didn’t even get a chance with you.” He gave Chanyeol the once over before giving him a cheeky wink.

“Can you not flirt with my fiancé in front of me,” Kyungsoo groaned, drawing a loud laugh from Jongdae.

“Your not-ex-boyfriend, you mean?” Jongdae replied, nudging Kyungsoo and smiling.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. Chanyeol decided that despite his first impression, he had a feeling, he would grow to like Jongdae. There was something mischievous about him that spoke to Chanyeol’s soul, and only half of his newfound affection had to do with the fact Jongdae insisted he was Kyungsoo’s ex. It wasn’t true, but it was a nice thought that had Chanyeol feeling like he wanted to smile like a fool for the next hour.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat loudly. “Do you have A positive and O?”

“Of course, I do. Have I ever been out?” Jongdae clapped his hands together. “Now, would you two like a table or a booth?”

Chanyeol was surprised that was an option. He didn’t think --

“He’s joking,” Kyungsoo explained.

Jongdae laughed. “Sorry, it was too easy. I’ll go get your meals.” He turned and padded towards a swinging door on the far end of the room, leaving Kyungsoo and Chanyeol alone.

Chanyeol opened his mouth, ready to question Kyungsoo about the ex-boyfriend moniker, but he stopped himself. Maybe he didn’t want to know if it was true Kyungsoo had ever used the term to refer to him. Ex-boyfriend. Chanyeol puffed his chest out. Boyfriend would be better. No, fiancée. He was Kyungsoo’s fiancée now, ready to ease his mutual loneliness like any good friend would.

Yes, that was it. They were good friends.

Best friends.

The doors swung open, Jongdae entering with four pouches in his hands.

“Chanyeol, I thought you looked familiar.” Jongdae walked to the small metal table in the middle of the room, setting the blood down. “And now I know why.”

“Huh?” Chanyeol followed Kyungsoo over to the table, eyes landing on the A positive pouches. He was starving. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the guy who jumped out of hotel window yesterday, right? “Jongdae grinned. “Apparently, you’re a wanted man now, something about blood theft. They have your sketch all over the news.”

Chanyeol swallowed thickly. He was on the news? This wasn’t good. He had expected that his name would be publicized, but not his face, which was fine. He had checked into the hotel under his latest alias, a name he had little attachment to. Kim Minjun could fade into notorious oblivion, he didn’t care. But now that his face was being publicized...

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo looked at each other, concern passing between them. “I was stupid and didn’t get rid of my last meal.” He should have hidden the blood bags, not tossed them somewhere housekeeping could find them.

“I should have made sure he cleaned up after himself,” Kyungsoo mumbled. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not your responsibility.” Chanyeol shook his head. “It was my stupid mistake.”

“Yes, but I saw you throw them away in the garbage and--”

“Would you look at that,” Jongdae interrupted, his lips turning up into a smile. “You already argue like newlyweds. Who is more sorry, who should have done what, who should feel bad. D’awwwww. You guys almost make me want to finally bite that cute waiter of yours and fall in love for real.”

“Don’t feed off my staff!” Kyungsoo sputtered.

Jongdae shrugged. “Stop hiring hot gay guys who would totally dig some sexy vampire time.”

“I-” Kyungsoo started to protest, but Chanyeol artfully changed the subject. “How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing. Consider it a wedding present.” Jongdae winked at them. “Just be sure to dispose of them _properly_ this time.”

“I will.” Chanyeol really would never live it down, would he? “Come on, Soo.”

“He calls you Soo?” Jongdae lifted his eyebrow, looking between the two vampires.

“Goodnight, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo said firmly, heading for the door.

Jongdae snorted while Chanyeol shrugged, flashing his own smile.

“Nice meeting you,” he offered a small wave then trailed after Kyungsoo, blood pouches in hand.

“Nice meeting you too,” Jongdae called after him. “Tell your tiny husband if you guys end up divorced, I call dibs. I wasn’t kidding about liking tall guys.”

“He likes _all_ guys,” Kyungsoo hissed under his breath, a frown forming.

Kyungsoo seemed moodier than usual, leaving the blood bank in silence and not saying a word until they were ten steps past the nearby seven-eleven. Chanyeol didn’t think Jongdae had done anything too wrong aside from some light teasing, but Kyungsoo seemed genuinely upset by something.

When Kyungsoo suddenly stopped, Chanyeol yelped and almost tripped, clutching the blood pouches inside his jacket so they wouldn’t fall onto the sidewalk.

Kyungsoo turned and looked up at him, a grim expression on his face. “We aren’t going to get a divorce.”

Chanyeol blinked. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.” Kyungsoo swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He suddenly held out his hand, leaving Chanyeol to stare. Was he…?

Kyungsoo didn’t explain, but he did move his hand closer.

Chanyeol grabbed the offered hand, their fingers intertwining. Kyungsoo’s hand was so much smaller than his own, his fingers a bit thicker but much shorter. Chanyeol stared at their hands, finding the simple gesture to suddenly seem so important, so meaningful, so...thrilling. When had things started to change? When had he started to-

“Come on, let’s go home,” Kyungsoo said, squeezing Chanyeol’s hand.

~~~❦~~~

_November 12th, 1895_

_Danyang-gun, North Chungcheong Province_

Kyungsoo split the log on the fourth try, the ax cutting into the wood with a loud thwack. Chanyeol chuckled when Kyungsoo called out for him to come to see. “I did it! Chanyeol, look!” He pointed excitedly at the log, jutting his finger towards the fallen pieces.

Chanyeol found it cute, but he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. Kyungsoo hated to be called cute.

“You did.” Chanyeol flashed a thumbs up. “Now I know anything is possible if even Do Kyungsoo can split a log.”

Kyungsoo’s smile turned into a dirty look. “I’ve split a log before.”

“Hmm. Once or twice,” Chanyeol teased. A moment later he was dodging a scrap of wood that came hurtling in his general direction, courtesy of Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol chuckled. He bent over to retrieve the piece of wood, tossing it back towards the scrap pile. “We should go in soon; dinner should be ready.”

“Let me do a few more,” Kyungsoo said, already reaching for another log.

“Okay, but no more than that or my mother will be cross again.” Chanyeol slid the palms of his hands together, trying to brush away the dirt that had accumulated from a day clearing brush. He stepped back to give Kyungsoo room, content to lean against a nearby tree and watch his friend’s clumsy attempts at chopping wood.

It was so different, this life, so far removed from the one they had known only months before. Gone was the secluded study and the books Kyungsoo hated, in its place was the rugged terrain of the rural province where Chanyeol’s family lived.

Returning to this place was never part of the plan, but an unceremonious fall from grace was not part of the plan either. The Do family got away with their lives, their assets seized. The Capital City wasn’t their home any longer, and after a childhood spent basically living with them, Chanyeol made it his mission to find the Do family a new place to live.

Kyungsoo’s parents and sister ended up staying with their Uncle, who had managed to stash away enough money to let them live comfortably for a short period. However, he made no secret in the fact the longer they stayed, the less welcome they were -- he had saved the money for his immediate family, not his brother’s wife and child, cast out due to their own misfortune.

Chanyeol dragged Kyungsoo away from that mess, back to his home village. Kyungsoo was more than happy to go with him, provided Chanyeol promised they wouldn’t be studying day and night once they got there. He assured Kyungsoo that wouldn't be the case, ready to say anything, promise anything, to get Kyungsoo to go with him. He knew that was the only way he could be sure Kyungsoo was somewhere safe, the only way he could know he was okay, that he was as happy as he could be. He might not be able to help the entire family like he wanted to, but he could help Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol’s parents were thrilled when he returned, but also disappointed he hadn’t returned a great scholar. Chanyeol worked his charm, pacifying his parents and building up the notion that it was amazing to have their only son back home -- with his best friend, a member of the prestigious Do family, no less.

After the initial disappointment, Chanyeol’s parents took to Kyungsoo with ease, repaying the love Chanyeol had received from the Do family and then some. Chanyeol could almost swear that his mother liked Kyungsoo better than him some days and Kyungsoo ate it up, spending hours in the tiny outdoor kitchen with Chanyeol’s mother, cooking and laughing like old friends.

Six months had gone by in a blur.

“Boys!” Chanyeol’s mother’s voice rang out through the trees. “Dinner!”

“Coming, mother,” Kyungsoo yelled back.

Chanyeol smiled at Kyungsoo’s sentiment. He liked it. He liked having Kyungsoo here so much. He loved hearing him call his mother as his own. Chanyeol felt a tug in his chest, a swell of affection. It was happiness born of misfortune, making him feel guilty that he was finding joy when it took Kyungsoo’s family being accused of treason to make them end up in this place. But how could he not be happy? They were together, smiling and laughing, spending each day in each other's company. Gone were the pressures of the Capitol city, gone were the expectations of rising to be the best. In its place was a comfortable lack of ambition, shared among friends. This was happiness to Chanyeol, so much happiness. 

_I like him so much_ , Chanyeol thought. _So much._

Later that evening, Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and tugged him back outside, away from the dying fire. Chanyeol followed without a word, not sure what his friend was up to but too full of his mother’s stew to really question it. The pair ended up sitting at the edge of the clearing in which the Park family house was located, staring up at the dark star-painted sky.

“My parents sent me a letter today,” Kyungsoo said softly, once they were seated side by side, the toes of their shoes pressed into the cold earth.

Chanyeol had noticed that a messenger was by, but it had slipped his mind to find out the reason. “Are they okay?”

“Yes, I think so.” Kyungsoo hugged his knees to his chest; his chin turned up as he looked at the sky. Chanyeol took a moment to look at him, to appreciate the gentle curve of his lips, of his nose. “They left for Manchuria a week ago.”

“What?” Chanyeol furrowed his brow. “Left?”

“Yes. My father said a cousin is in business up there. He thinks it will be better for my sister and my mother.”

“And he didn’t even ask if you wanted to go?” Chanyeol blurted out.

“No, he didn’t. Probably because he knows I would say no.” Kyungsoo looked over at Chanyeol. “Just like I said no to getting married to a cousin just to have a place to live. I think he is very well happy to let me make my own life, and for that, I am grateful.”

“He wanted you to get married?” Chanyeol said dumbly. Why had Kyungsoo never mentioned that? Chanyeol frowned.

“Yes, he did. But I turned him down. I don’t want to marry just because I need money or a place to live. I want to get married for love.” Kyungsoo shrugged. “I guess I am not very practical.”

“No, you’re the most practical person I know,” Chanyeol argued. “You just hate being told what to do, that is your problem. It’s why you hate studying.”

“That’s probably true.” Kyungsoo laughed. It was a low sound, one that Chanyeol thought was nice. Melodic in a strange way.

_Marriage._ Chanyeol had never considered when that time would come –when they would both be expected to find wives. They wouldn't be as close then, inevitably. It made him sad to consider a future where he didn’t talk to Kyungsoo every day, where Kyungsoo wasn’t the one he slept next to.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Chanyeol felt the need to lighten the moment the only way he knew how– with poorly thought out humor. “I hope you realize we’re poor now. There is no way you’re going to get someone to marry you,” he joked. “You probably shouldn't have turned down your father’s suggestion. It is probably the only chance you’ll have.”

“I guess I’ll be single forever.” Kyungsoo feigned sadness. “You’re stuck with me, Park.”

“And you’re stuck with me. No one is going to marry the son of poor farmers, at least no one I want to marry.” Chanyeol’s mind flashed to the few single women in his village and fought back a full-body cringe at the thought of marrying one of them.

“Guess we’ll be single forever,” Kyungsoo teased. He looked at Chanyeol, a soft smile playing on his lips. “If we’re old and no one wants us, we can always marry each other.”

“Genius,” Chanyeol said, sarcasm heavy in his response. “We’ll wait until we’re ancient, a hundred and twenty-five, older than anyone else and have the slowest wedding known to man.”

“You won’t marry me until we’re that old?” Kyungsoo nudged Chanyeol’s side playfully. “You’ll make me wait.”

“I have to wait too,” Chanyeol pointed out.

“That you do. You can’t marry someone of my lineage so easily,” Kyungsoo grinned, chuckling softly.

Chanyeol smiled. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough so he could make out Kyungsoo’s features, the curve of his nose. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to raise his hand, to trace the pads of his fingers against Kyungsoo’s cheek. He was handsome when he smiled and absolutely gorgeous when he laughed. Chanyeol didn’t realize he had been holding a breath until he let it out.

He wanted to commit this to memory, this night out in the countryside, where it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Things were simple under the stars, with their playful banter, Kyungsoo’s quiet voice, his smile, and laughter. If Chanyeol could capture it forever, he would. He looked away, his chest pulling tight.

“Exactly. it’s a deal,” Kyungsoo said, a puff of breath rising into the chilly night air. “We’ll be poor, crazy old farmers who marry each other. True happiness.”

They laughed softly before a comfortable silence once again descended, the friends settling in, their shoulders pressed together. Chanyeol admired the sky, so clear, so different from how it looked back in Seoul. Next to him, Kyungsoo yawned.

Chanyeol knew if they had any sense of self-preservation, they should probably go to bed. They were supposed to help his father out in the fields the next day, and it would be brutal back-breaking work. “We should go ins--”

“What was that?” Kyungsoo interrupted. His arm jutted out as he pointed towards the tree line.

“What?” Chanyeol squinted, trying to see what Kyungsoo was pointing at.

“I thought I saw the outline of a person,” Kyungsoo said, tone serious. “But they were moving fast.”

“It’s probably an animal,” Chanyeol assured him. He stood, offering his hand to Kyungsoo to help him up. “Now come on, we need to rest.”

Kyungsoo stared at the tree line for a moment before taking Chanyeol’s hand. “An animal?”

“Hmm. The woods can play tricks on your mind, especially at night,” Chanyeol said. He tugged Kyungsoo up but didn’t let his hand go once they were both standing. Kyungsoo didn’t move his hand away, and like that, they began the walk back to the house hand in hand.

Chanyeol was so wrapped up in the feeling of Kyungsoo’s smaller hand in his, the weight of it, the warmth, that he didn't notice the dark figure that watched them from the shadows, observing their every move.

When he had to let Kyungsoo’s hand go, Chanyeol gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go to bed,” he said softly, leading Kyungsoo towards the small room they shared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! Please read chapter 3 if you have not done so yet, three chapters were updated at once, and that is where the update begins:)   
> Sorry for the delay in posting! Please note that the fic has been extended to six parts. Tags have also been added, so please heed the new warnings (particularly the graphic violence, which will occur in parts four and five). The final part is almost done and will be posted later this week.

Chanyeol woke up with Kyungsoo’s back pressed flush against his chest, and Kyungsoo’s ass pushed into his groin. It took a few seconds to fully realized what position they were in, and once Chanyeol did he scooted back in a hurry, waking Kyungsoo in the process.

Kyungsoo stretched and rolled over, eyes fluttering open. He smiled when he saw Chanyeol, that smile that made his cheeks puff out, the one that made Chanyeol’s heart stop back when it was still beating.

Chanyeol feigned a smile in return. “Night,” he greeted.

“Night.” Kyungsoo sat up, arching his back. The white t-shirt he was wearing was a couple sizes too big, which meant it had moved to the side ever so, giving Chanyeol’s a peek at his collar bones. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss there, to suck marks into the skin. As a friend.

_Or something._

Chanyeol looked away.

“I was thinking that you might try working at the restaurant tonight,” Kyungsoo said, scooting to the edge of the bed. “If you want to, I mean.”

Right. The restaurant. The one Chanyeol was apparently going to own half of. “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Chanyeol muttered, moving, his long legs almost colliding with the nightstand when he swung them haphazardly over the edge of the bed.

“It’ll be slow tonight. Not a lot going on since it’s a Monday. You can try any position you would like,” Kyungsoo answered. “Baekhyun will be around and so will Jongin, he’s the assistant chef. Minseok is the bartender, he’ll be here after ten. All three could take you under their wing.”

“Where did you find your staff, anyway?” He really was asking where Kyungsoo found Baekhyun, the man who apparently convinced monochrome loving Kyungsoo that the color wheel existed.

“Baekhyun used to be a waiter at a restaurant around the block. I hired him on the spot after he got fired at his old job for talking too much,” Kyungsoo explained. “Kim Jongin, the assistant chef, applied out of culinary school. He’s a sweet kid. And Kim Minseok, he’s the bar manager, is a vampire. I met him through Jongdae.”

So, another vampire was working there, with a Korean name no less. That caught Chanyeol’s attention. “What’s this Minseok guy like? And how come you would hire someone who talks a lot?”

“Minseok is quiet and polite, unless he is in one of those flirty moods and then well, watch out. And I hired Baekhyun because talking too much is a great trait for a waiter to have, assuming they also do their job,” Kyungsoo answered. He stood, giving Chanyeol a look at his bare legs. “Baekhyun does a great job, so I don’t mind if he spends more time talking to the patrons.”

Chanyeol was momentarily dazed, spying the long, pink scar that wrapped around Kyungsoo’s thigh. It still looked new, like it was made only months before. How many times had he traced his fingers along that scar? Chanyeol fought against asking if he could touch it. He turned and looked away and cleared his throat. “What do you think I’d be best at? It’s your restaurant.”

“Anything,” Kyungsoo responded. “You’ve always been good at anything you put your mind to.”

If Chanyeol had blood in his body, he probably would have blushed. “Well, I mean, I like to learn.” He loved to learn, was obsessed with it. Even in death, he cycled through hobbies every few months.

“Exactly. Unlike me.” Kyungsoo padded over to the dresser and started rummaging inside. “By the way, what are you going to do about clothes? I don’t mind if you keep borrowing mine, but I think they may be a little small.”

Chanyeol had left all his belongings back at the hotel, and there was no way he could go back there.

“1990s movie shopping montage?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Much to Chanyeol’s relief, he was able to play three songs from the Clueless soundtrack while they were on their shopping trip, at first as a joke and then in all seriousness once Kyungsoo started talking about how much he had enjoyed the film.

“It’s too bad we didn’t get to watch it together,” Chanyeol sighed. His arms were full of shopping bags. They had hit up a streetwear store and the discount department store that flag-shipped the shopping mall, buying four of everything but mostly in the same colors–– black or grey, Kyungsoo tossing them in the cart without asking. Chanyeol wondered if Kyungsoo was taking out his lack of monochrome surroundings on Chanyeol’s wardrobe. Regardless, he trusted Kyungsoo’s taste, so he shut up and let him pick.

Kyungsoo nodded. “It would have been way more fun to watch it with you at the theater. I ended up catching it on a flight back from Rome like four years after it came out. I couldn’t even say anything because the guy next to me was asleep. It sucked.”

Chanyeol mentioned Army of Darkness, and from there they somehow landed on Troma films, Kyungsoo animatedly discussing how revolutionary the studio was and that they really should get more credit. They were deep in conversation as they neared the entrance of the mall, trudging through the food court where half of the restaurants were already shutting down.

Kyungsoo made a sudden step to the left, having almost walked into a chair that was left three feet from the café table it belonged to. He pushed the chair in, sidestepping it. “Campy B-movies are an art form, and anyone who says otherwise is lying,” Kyungsoo said, gesturing for emphasis.

“We need to do a movie marathon soon.” Chanyeol was already starting a mental list of films to watch with Kyungsoo. “We also need to watch Godzilla. Did you realize there are forty Godzilla films, Soo? Forty. That is a lot of monsters that we’ve missed out on.”

“They made forty of those?” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Y-yeah.” Chanyeol was momentarily distracted when he saw a reflection in the tinted glass exit doors. They didn’t show a reflection because _vampires_ , but the human that was walking behind them did.

The man was wearing a uniform, his hand hovering near his belt.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened when he realized that it was a police officer.

_Police. Officer._

Memories of the Chicago Police Department shouting at him the night before echoed in his head.

“Police,” Chanyeol hissed. “Behind us.”

Kyungsoo didn’t look behind them but kept walking. A few steps later, he grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and guided him away from the doors, towards the brightly colored smoothie stand across the food court. They tried to look inconspicuous while they put distance between themselves and the police officer.

Chanyeol hazarded a glance. The officer had stopped and was now looking around like he hadn’t seen them slip away. Kyungsoo kept a tight hold on Chanyeol’s hand and tugged him towards a place where the food court wall jutted out in an angle, partitioning the dining area while maximizing space for food vendors. Kyungsoo pulled Chanyeol around the corner, into a darker part of the food court.

The fast-food restaurant they ended up in front of had its gate down and the lights off. The overhead lighting from the dining room cast shadows into the deserted area, but it otherwise it was quiet and dark.

Chanyeol bit his lip and peeked around the corner, just in time to see the officer heading straight for them. He let out a yelp of surprise, which was suddenly muffled by…muffled. Muffled by…

Chanyeol froze, his mind inexplicably blank. Kyungsoo’s hands were on his neck, pulling him down. And Kyungsoo’s lips were. Were.

They were…

Chanyeol didn’t think he was a robot, but he could be wrong because he was pretty sure his brain had short-circuited. Do Kyungsoo, his best friend for a hundred plus years, was kissing him. Their lips were pressed flush together, Chanyeol’s head angled awkwardly, forced down by a hard pull from Kyungsoo’s hands.

Kyungsoo’s eyes were closed, his nose was pressed into Chanyeol’s. And suddenly Kyungsoo was licking along the seam of Chanyeol’s lips and oh. _Shit._

Chanyeol closed his eyes and parted his lips, giving Kyungsoo entry. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he knew that whatever Kyungsoo was doing with his tongue felt fantastic and he didn’t want it to end. Kyungsoo’s tongue slid against his teeth, entering Chanyeol’s mouth and licking inside. Chanyeol moaned into the kiss, not realizing what he was doing until it was too late.

“Hey, have you guys seen a group of teenagers––“ Chanyeol heard shoes squeak against the food court floor. “Oh. Sorry.”

Kyungsoo broke the kiss, stepping back like nothing had happened. “Teenagers?” he asked, turning towards the police officer who had just rounded the corner.

Chanyeol was so shocked he just stood there dumbly, staring at Kyungsoo, trying to remember how to move again.

“Yeah. Five of them. We had reports they were shoplifting,” the officer explained.

“No, we haven’t seen them. Sorry.” Kyungsoo smiled.

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

“Alright. Hey, if you do see them let mall security know, okay.” The man took a step like he was going to walk away but stopped and turned around. “And um, try not to do that at the mall, guys. We have families that come here.”

“Of course, sorry.” Kyungsoo was unfailingly polite.

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

Once the man was gone, Kyungsoo turned back towards Chanyeol. He looked calm, collected, the exact opposite of what Chanyeol was feeling. “Sorry, I thought he was a real cop. I didn’t want him to see your face.”

Chanyeol blinked, slowly letting reality seep back in. “He wasn’t a cop?”

“He’s a mall cop. Or security. Whatever you call them.” Kyungsoo glanced in the direction the man had walked in. “Now come on. We need to get back before it’s time to open the restaurant.”

Kyungsoo took a step forward. When Chanyeol didn’t follow, he turned back. “Everything okay?”

“Uh.” _No, not at all. You kissed me. I kissed you. We kissed_. “Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Chanyeol lied. He tightened his hold on the shopping bags. “Let’s go.”

Kyungsoo fished the lack apron out of the storage area. Chanyeol stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around and feeling utterly lost. His brain was still screaming about the kiss, the one that Kyungsoo had shrugged off as a matter of necessity so Chanyeol wouldn’t get caught.

“This should fit.” Kyungsoo unfolded the apron and approached, leaning in he wrapped the string around Chanyeol’s waist.

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

Chanyeol looked down, eyes meeting the crown of Kyungsoo’s head. He could smell the old spice shampoo that Kyungsoo liked to lather on his head, one of the rare non-pink items in his bathroom.

Kyungsoo’s hands were working to tie a knot in the back of the apron, his arms wrapped around the thin part of Chanyeol’s waist. He probably wasn’t aware of how close he was, Chanyeol decided. He probably had no idea how much Chanyeol liked having him this close. Or how much his brain was stuck on the kiss that had happened at the mall.

“There.” Kyungsoo took a step back, the apron tied neatly in place. He admired his handiwork. “So, where do you want to begin?”

“Can I stay in the kitchen with you?” Chanyeol asked, deciding that would be the most comfortable place to start.

Kyungsoo quirked his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. We used to cook together, remember?” They used to cook together, but really it was mostly Chanyeol watching Kyungsoo cook, eager to taste what he made (when he was human) or to critique it's visual (after becoming a vampire).

“I have an assistant chef; Jongin.” Kyungsoo picked his apron off the rack and began to tie it on. “I’ll introduce you once he’s in.”

“Is this your way of telling me that I shouldn’t help you?” Chanyeol asked. “That you have all the help you need?”

Kyungsoo gave him a brief look before padding over to the stove, where he began fidgeting with the gas knobs. “Did I say that?”

“No.” Chanyeol glanced around. “You didn’t.”

Why was it suddenly tense between them? Chanyeol felt a wave of frustration rush over him. Too much had happened in too short a time, and he was confused.

“Please don’t put words in my mouth.” The gas clicked on, and a ring of fire surrounded the burner. Chanyeol took a step back in surprise.

Kyungsoo fiddled with the knob until the fire decreased. “Come here, I’ll show you what’s on the menu for tonight.

Chanyeol took a deep breath and stepped forward. Perhaps cooking wasn’t his thing…

“Cooking is not my thing.” Chanyeol grimaced at the sink, the charred salmon still smoking even after being doused with water. Two hours had passed while he helped in the kitchen, two disastrous hours.

“It’s okay, Cooking isn’t everyone’s thing.” Jongin, also known as Kyungsoo’s assistant chef and probably one of the kindest humans Chanyeol had come across in quite some time, put his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Wow, you’re as cold as Kyungsoo!” he said, taking a step back.

“Poor circulation,” Chanyeol murmured, staring at what was supposed to be the Bloody Mary Salmon.

Jongin’s lip jutted out into a pout as he stared at the sink full of smoldering ruin. Chanyeol wasn’t exactly sure why, but Jongin with his sleepy eyes and longish hair, reminded him a bit of a fatigued puppy. “Maybe try it again. You shouldn’t give up yet.”

“Nah, I think I’ve done enough.” Chanyeol glanced at Kyungsoo. The chef was busy cutting up the beets for the Beet Borscht that would be the night’s specialty. He hadn’t said anything when Chanyeol set the fish on fire, not even sparing him a glance.

Chanyeol dragged his feet as he walked, approaching Kyungsoo, ready for punishment.

Kyungsoo looked up from the pot he was stirring, but instead of the anger Chanyeol anticipated seeing there he saw only warmth. “It’s fine, Chanyeol. Don’t worry.”

Kyungsoo could have been a jerk about it, but he wasn’t. Sure, it was an accident, but Chanyeol had also filled the kitchen with smoke and could have burnt the place down. He would be justified in being at least a little miffed. But he wasn’t. Kyungsoo forgave him so quickly, reassuring him.

“Maybe I should try being a waiter,” Chanyeol mumbled.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Kyungsoo replied.

Chanyeol sighed, trudging from the kitchen.

“See that one over there.” Baekhyun leaned in, whispering. He gestured towards a corner booth where three women and a man sat. “They tip really well, but only if you flirt with the redhead. If you flirt with any of the others, they get pissed.”

Chanyeol gripped the server pad in his hand, eying the full dining room. He was worried about embarrassing himself.

“That older couple there, the ones in red leather, they are horrible tippers.” Baekhyun gestured towards the couple before turning Chanyeol towards a table where a man sat alone. He was tall, attractive, in a long trench coat with his blonde hair slicked back. “That’s Kris. He’s one of those dudes who thinks he really is a vampire.” Baekhyun snorted like it was an insane thing. “Comes in and looks moody, sits by himself for a couple hours and then leaves. He usually orders from the kids’ menu.”

“We have a kids menu?” Chanyeol asked, shocked. Who would bring their kids to a vampire-themed restaurant that had late-night operating hours?

“We do, but it’s really only for Kris. He ordered mini corn dogs and mini tacos so much Kyungsoo decided to just put them on a menu to spite him.” Baekhyun grinned. “Our boss is the best, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Chanyeol readily agreed. Do Kyungsoo really was the best, with his cooking and his cuddles and his lips…and

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

“Here, you can carry this drink over to Kris and then take the rest of his order.” Baekhyun passed a tray over to Chanyeol, a single cup of the fake blood drink sat on top.

Chanyeol tried to balance the tray on his palm, but it didn’t work. No sooner had Baekhyun handed him the tray then it ended up on the floor, the drink splashing onto the carpeting, droplets landing on a nearby chair and patron.

Chanyeol stepped back, mortified for the second time that night. “Shit, I’m sorry. Sorry!” he yelled, looking around for a towel to wipe up the spill.

Maybe waiting tables wasn’t his thing….

“It’s way easier than waiting tables. You pour a little bit of booze in a cup full of ice, then splash in some red stuff or black stuff or fizzy stuff and then you give it to them with a wink.” Kim Minseok, the baby-faced vampire slash bar manager, reached up to pat Chanyeol on the shoulder. “If you break something, no one will notice because most of them are all buzzed up. And if they’re sober, they’ll be too busy trying to flirt with you to care if you spill a drink here or there or even talk to them. Just wink a lot and show off your ass and everything else will fall into place.”

Chanyeol looked down the long bar, already feeling more at ease than he had taking orders or trying to cook. The bar area was darker than the rest of the place, with lower lighting. Everything was organized neatly under the counter. The mixers for the drinks came from a nozzle, and the ice holder didn’t look too dangerous.

“I’m not very good at mixing drinks,” Chanyeol admitted.

“You’ll learn. And just remember, it’s a vampire bar. People don’t come here for world-class drinks, they come here because it’s spooky. It’s the atmosphere, Chanyeol, not the quality of the food or drink.” Minseok reached over and unbuttoned the top two buttons of Chanyeol’s white button-down shirt. “The _atmosphere_ ,” he accentuated.

Atmosphere. Right. Chanyeol swallowed, wondering how mad Kyungsoo would be to hear that it wasn’t his menu drawing people in, at least according to Kim Minseok.

Chanyeol’s first customer was a woman in a low cut, figure-hugging black lace dress. She eyed him up and down, spending more than a few seconds checking out his exposed neck. “Hi baby,” she purred, leaning across the bar, her cleavage on full display. “What specials do you have tonight?”

Specials...specials…shit, Minseok hadn’t told him. Chanyeol turned to ask the bar manager, but he was gone. He caught sight of Minseok across the room, seated at a table, leaning in and obviously flirting with the person who sat across from him, a man in a soccer jersey and jeans.

“Um, well.” Shit, he had to think of something. “Blood drink! We have blood d-drink.” He added a wink for good measure.

“I’ll have one of those,” she said in a low voice.

Chanyeol grinned. It had worked. “Coming right up,” he announced, trudging off to figure out precisely what came in a Blood Drink.

Chanyeol collapsed into bed as the sun started to rise. He ached all over, and his head hurt. Minseok had stayed hours after close, showing Chanyeol the drink recipes and helping him to learn how to operate the bar register.

“Minseok said you’re a natural.” Kyungsoo slipped into bed next to him, lifting the soft grey covers. “Do you like bartending?”

Chanyeol stared up at the ceiling. Did he? “I didn’t destroy anything while doing it,” he answered.

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Then I think you found your true calling in life.” He scooted towards the middle of the bed and turned over, his back facing Chanyeol. “I want to be the little spoon.”

It sounded more like an order than a request. Chanyeol turned onto his side and scooted towards his best friend. He put his arm over Kyungsoo’s middle and moved his other arm to rest under the pillow. He stopped when Kyungsoo pressed back. “Hold me,” he said quietly, indicating that an arm slung over his side wasn’t enough.

Chanyeol snaked his other arm under Kyungsoo, pulling his back to rest flush against his chest. The shift in proximity brought back the memory from earlier that evening, the one Chanyeol had been too busy to dwell on.

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol said slowly, the memory of their kiss seared into his brain.

“Hmm?”

“The kiss...” Chanyeol started, not sure what he would say but needing to say something.

“It was an accident, Chanyeol. I just didn’t want you to get caught,” Kyungsoo explained. Suddenly, he moved out of Chanyeol’s arms, struggling to sit up. He reached for his phone on his nightstand. “I looked it up, by the way, and Jongdae is full of shit. The sketch the cops circulated doesn’t look a thing like you.”

Kyungsoo shoved his phone towards Chanyeol.

Chanyeol raised himself upon his arm and took the phone, blinking down at the image. A headline read BLOOD BANDIT DESTROYS HILTON. Under the headline was a crude drawing of a man with big eyes and ears that made him look like Dumbo. It was almost comical how the sketch artist had overemphasized parts of him while getting the critical features totally wrong. “I do not look like that,” Chanyeol agreed. “That’s a terrible likeness.”

“Other than the ears,” Kyungsoo smirked. “They captured those well.”

Kyungsoo turned over and dove under the covers.

“Hey!” Chanyeol let the phone drop onto the bed. He struggled with the covers, trying to find where Kyungsoo was. He tore the bedspread away, lifting the sheet to see…Kyungsoo was unconscious, having fallen into the not-sleep that they used to pass the time during the day. Chanyeol looked down at his unconscious friend.

He sighed. An accident. _It had been an accident._

“Good day, Kyungsoo,” he whispered, before turning over.

_Kyungsoo kissed me. I kissed Kyungsoo. We kissed._

_It was an accident_ , rang in Chanyeol’s mind as he slipped off into nothingness.

Progress. That is how Chanyeol would describe his nights. Slowly he was making progress with Kyungsoo, figuring out the logistics of combining their undead worlds into one. He had even taken up working at the restaurant every night, mostly because he hated when Kyungsoo frowned at him when he said no. Two weeks had flown by this way, a blur of nothing but everything, small victories, and of course, lots of dirty aprons, panicked drink making, and confusion. 

Chanyeol tried out the other positions at the restaurant again, giving them another chance before eventually discovering he really did excel at bartending. It allowed him to talk a lot and meet a ton of people, which was great for someone who had spent the last one hundred plus years trying to fill their socialization quota without stepping out during the daytime.

It was also amicable to Minseok who happened to be a lot more interested in talking to a certain Chinese man who frequented the place than making the rounds at the bar. With Minseok happily occupied, Chanyeol found his rhythm serving drinks to patrons, remembering to wink and show off his ass when things got a little too trying. He talked about music and movies and learned that his English really wasn’t as terrible as he had thought it was.

He even managed to stomach serving cups of fake blood.

Progress. He was making progress.

“You look good in uniform,” Kyungsoo drawled one night, being evident with the once-over he gave Chanyeol.

“You too,” Chanyeol responded with a cheeky wink.

Friendly progress. 

“Can’t you mail it?” Chanyeol _typed what-to-do-when-your-vampire-best-friend-doesn’t-love-you-but-you-love-him_ -but _-you-can’t-say-it_ - _and-you-guys-kissed-because-you-thought-a-mall-cop-was-a-real-cop_ into the Google search bar.

“Um, no,” Sehun drawled. A pouch of blood floated on the skype screen, the contents slowly disappearing into nothingness, sucked through the top of the bag. “I mean if you want to get arrested when they open the package and find forced Identification papers, be my guest, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Chanyeol frowned at the page of search results–– Unrequited love Reddit asks and a lot about emotional vampires. “What even is an emotional vampire?” he mumbled.

“Huh?” Sehun asked, the blood pouch crumpling up, a slurping noise coming through the speakers.

“Nothing,” Chanyeol sighed. He clicked out of the search window. “I can probably make it to Seoul in a few weeks and get them then. I’ll use my backup a passport to get back.” Sehun had an uncanny ability to forge papers - passports, IDS, pretty much anything you could think of. Chanyeol liked to pretend that is why he kept talking to him.

“I’ll tell Junmyeon you’re coming to visit.” The blood bag launched itself across the room, hitting the rim of a metal wastebasket and falling to the floor. “He’ll be excited. He keeps saying he misses you.”

“How nice.” Chanyeol doubted that Junmyeon was bemoaning his absence. Junmyeon only ever missed Sehun. He really did live by the rule of Sehun and everyone else (or the non-Sehuns as Kyungsoo liked to refer to them as).

“So, tell me. Are you and Kyungsoo fucking yet?”

“What?! No,” Chanyeol sputtered.

“God, you guys are so frustrating.” Sehun clucked his tongue. “Why are you still wearing clothing around each other? It doesn’t make sense.”

“We’re not like that,” Chanyeol mumbled. “He doesn’t- we don’t. It isn’t like that.” _He doesn’t love me._

“Hyung, why are you so stupid?” Sehun sighed.

Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest but didn’t. It was stupid. He was pining after a best friend that wouldn't love him back. He was marrying his best friend, who wouldn’t love him in return.

He really was stupid to the point it was almost tragic.

A few nights later, Chanyeol stood behind the bar and watched as Baekhyun squeezed Kyungsoo’s forearm, the waiter and chef conversing near the hostess area. Kyungsoo smiled and laughed, leaning in closer while Baekhyun whispered something in his ear. Chanyeol crossed his arms over his chest and watched the pair. Byun Baekhyun was really something, Chanyeol decided. He had gotten Kyungsoo - wear black for the rest of his undead life Kyungsoo - to like pink. Kyungsoo must think the world of him.

“They’re just friends,” Minseok said, sidling up to Chanyeol, bar rag in hand.

Chanyeol glanced at the bar manager. “Huh?”

“Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. they’re just friends,” Minseok repeated. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Chanyeol blurted out. “Not worrying. Definitely not worrying.”

Minseok tilted his head to the side and looked up at Chanyeol. “Hmm. Right. Not worried at all. Listen, the jealousy thing is ugly so you might want to lose it.”

“I’m not––”

“You two are fools.” Minseok clucked his tongue before turning and strolling away, wiping the bar in one long push as he went.

Chanyeol swallowed. Of course, he wasn’t jealous, what did he have to be jealous of? They were just friends. He had spent decades with Kyungsoo, jealousy was so not something he had entertained. Ever.

Probably.

Maybe.

Chanyeol chose not to rehash the memories of Kyungsoo in the fifties, with his string of boyfriends and girlfriends, a new one appearing the second another one left. He didn’t want to drudge up the old feelings, the arguments that were born of loneliness and insecurities that Chanyeol had too much time to invent and then obsess over. In turn, it would do no good to remember Kyungsoo giving him dirty looks because Chanyeol had stayed out for two weeks straight with Song Qian, the beautiful dancer and fellow vampire he had met in the twenties; Kyungsoo, asking in that severe tone of voice, if Chanyeol loved her more than he loved him.

Chanyeol pursed his lips. Kyungsoo laughed and slapped playfully at Baekhyun’s arm. He looked happy.

What if…. what if Kyungsoo did fall in love with someone at some point? What if he met someone he really liked, someone who wasn’t just a friend like Chanyeol was? And how had that not happened in all the time that they had spent apart? Kyungsoo had always been insanely popular with humans and vampires alike. There was something magnetic about him, even if he didn’t talk a lot or joke around like Chanyeol did. People liked him, and more than a few wanted to fuck him. And Kyungsoo fell in and out of love with them, perhaps not as quickly as they flocked to him, but still.

Kyungsoo would fall in love again, and it was something that Chanyeol felt like a bigger idiot for not considering until that moment because it was pretty much guaranteed to happen. Maybe it was the buried, secret hope he had carried that had blinded him to the future, wishful thinking drowning out the reason. But Kyungsoo had made it clear with his explanation of their kiss that any hope of them being more than friends was foolish. The kiss was an accident, even if they were engaged. Chanyeol remembered how Kyungsoo had also questioned if there was anything romantic about their relationship back when he had agreed to the marriage. Kyungsoo’s stance was evident, there were no feelings there beyond what had always existed between them as best friends.

Chanyeol turned around, no longer able to stomach seeing Kyungsoo and Baekhyun laughing about some shared secret.

And Chanyeol was good at denying his feelings. He knew it, deep down, could admit it to himself. He could swallow down the implications of finding Kyungsoo physically attractive and pretend like the bolt of want, _of need_ , that had coursed through him when Kyungsoo kissed him was a perverted form of surprise and nothing more. He could lie about how much he had missed Kyungsoo or how much he loved him.

Because, inevitably, Kyungsoo would fall in love again, a marriage to Chanyeol wouldn’t change that. After all, _they were just friends._

But Kyungsoo had also made it clear he never wanted a divorce...did that mean he would see someone on the side?

_Shit._ Why had he never considered this before? What would he do if Kyungsoo started seeing someone, or worse, what would he do if Kyungsoo purposefully didn’t see someone because he didn’t want to upset Chanyeol? What if he dragged Kyungsoo down, kept him away from someone that could make him happy?

The only thing worse than knowing that Kyungsoo would never feel the same about him was knowing he stood in the way of Kyungsoo being happy. He couldn’t stand knowing he was the reason Kyungsoo would hold back, would swallow back his emotions. Chanyeol could imagine a future with Kyungsoo, the chef withdrawing more and more, the feelings festering, hatred rising.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Chanyeol sat on the hot pink sofa, resting his feet on the blush colored ottoman. His arms were folded across this chest, bottom lip jutting out. He was staring at nothing, zoning out, turning it over in his head. _What if, what if, what if?_

When he heard the apartment door open and close, Chanyeol snapped out of it, letting his feet fall to the floor he sat up straight, trying not to look like the mess he was.

Kyungsoo jogged up the stairs. Chanyeol could smell the scent of the night’s special, the odor of spices still clinging to him.

“Have time to go to the blood bank?” Kyungsoo asked when he reached the landing. “I’m hungry, and I think we’re out of O.”

Chanyeol clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “Soo, I think we need to talk.”

Kyungsoo padded towards the living room, white socks sliding against the pink tile. “What’s wrong?” He was dressed in his chef’s uniform, but the top was unbuttoned to reveal a plain black t-shirt. A stain of some unidentifiable sauce was on Kyungsoo’s cheek, and his hair was messy. He looked hot, and Chanyeol would have let his gaze linger for a second longer, to appreciate if it had been any other night.

Chanyeol patted the place next to him. “Sit.”

Kyungsoo cautiously took a seat, sitting on the edge of the sofa cushion.

“I was thinking today about some things.” Chanyeol sucked in a breath that he didn’t need. “Things that I probably shouldn’t be thinking of.” He had no idea how he would say it, only that he needed to.

“The pink stays,” Kyungsoo said firmly.

“What?” Chanyeol blinked at him.

“I’m not changing my decor, not entirely.” Kyungsoo stiffened, looking like he was ready for a fight. “If you want to add things, I am fine with it, but I am not repainting the entire apartment. It was a nightmare, to begin with, having it all redone. I don’t want to repeat it.”

“No, no. The pink is fine.” Chanyeol gestured dismissively. “It has nothing to do with the decor.”

Kyungsoo visibly relaxed. “What is it, then?”

“Kyungsoo, we each might meet someone. After we’re married, I mean.” Chanyeol dug his nails into his knuckles, feeling a little like crying. But no, he had to get it out there, talk to Kyungsoo about it like the mature one hundred plus year old vampires they were. “Romantic feelings might develop, that we aren’t anticipating. If something like that occurred, we might not want to be married anymore.”

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo, looked at his best friend. At the person he loved most in the world. What if one-day Kyungsoo left him, except unlike fifty years before, he left him without the promise of anything more. Left him because he had a new person he loved?

Kyungsoo looked at the floor. “Is there someone you like?”

“No, no. Of course not.” Chanyeol dismissed the idea. “I would tell you if there was.”

“Are you sure, there’s no one you like?” Kyungsoo said, his words spoken with a hint of something Chanyeol couldn’t place. Was it anger? Or Sadness?

“Soo, I would tell you if there was, I promise.” Chanyeol moved, angling his body on the sofa, so he was facing his friend. Lies. All lies _. I would tell you if it was anyone but you._ “I’m worried that in the future there may be someone _you_ like. I’m worried you would be afraid to leave me, and we’ll end up miserable with each other. I don’t want to hold you down.”

Kyungsoo’s jaw tightened. “Chanyeol,” he spoke slowly. “How do you feel about me?”

Chanyeol stared at his best friend, at the kind, big eyes that he had looked into thousands of times over the century. Kyungsoo’s face was as familiar as his own, in life and in death. He looked into his past and the future he wanted, _Kyungsoo_.

“Chanyeol, do you love me?”

“Yes, of course.” Chanyeol felt like he was speaking from underwater, that his voice was distant.

Kyungsoo shook his head. “No, not like a friend. Not like that. I’ll ask you again. Chanyeol, do you love me?”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to respond, but his tongue seemed to be stuck, his lips unable to form the syllables. _Rejection_. Knowing it was all one-sided...pain, so much pain. “I….”

The sudden crash from downstairs made both men jump. It sounded like metal on metal, like a truck was dropped on top of the stainless steel work table, both crashing to the kitchen floor. They were up in a second, rushing towards the apartment door, their vampire speed kicking in at the sudden sound.

Chanyeol’s mind raced with what-ifs: could the police have found him despite the awful sketch? Was it a hostile vampire coven? Or even worse, a vampire slayer? Kyungsoo hadn’t mentioned a Slayer’s Guild existing in the city, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an undiscovered one. If a Vampire Slayer broke in, they were in terrible danger.

Kyungsoo pried the door open first, and Chanyeol rushed after him. The hallway was dark, but a light was shining from the crack at the bottom of the kitchen door. Chanyeol tensed, expecting to come face to face with a threat, ready to launch himself at anyone who dared to hurt himself or Kyungsoo. He was prepared for a fight, his feet pounding against the tile hallway, the muscles in his arms tightening as he braced himself.

Chanyeol stopped at the doorway of the kitchen, unable to believe what he was seeing. He stood dumbly; lips slightly parted. Kyungsoo was next to him, apparently as equally as shocked. The adrenaline rush died in an instant, replaced by sheer confusion.

“How did you get here?” Kyungsoo demanded.

“Nice to see you too,” Junmyeon drawled. Beside him, Sehun held two pot lids, which he banged together with extra force, repeating the noise that had they had heard from upstairs.

“Hi, Hyungs,” Sehun greeted. “We aren’t interrupting anything, I hope.”

~~~❦~~~

_March 1896_

_Danyang-gun, North Chungcheong Province_

"They're poisonous." Chanyeol pushed Kyungsoo's hand away from the mushrooms. "Do not eat them."

"How can you tell?" Kyungsoo asked.

They were mushroom hunting in the forest near Chanyeol's village. Kyungsoo had never done anything of the sort, it was yet another thing Chanyeol could teach him. Chanyeol was happy to do it, though, happy to walk through the calm of the woods with Kyungsoo, digging up old knowledge about plants and animal tracks, earning appreciative gazes from his friend in the process.

"See the ring on the stem?" Chanyeol pointed towards the base of the largest mushroom. “And the gills. If there are a ring and gills, the mushroom is almost certainly poisonous.” He placed a hand on the crook of Kyungsoo's elbow and urged him to stand. “The edible mushrooms grow further east, deeper in the forest.”

"Lead the way." Kyungsoo fell into step with Chanyeol, the dried leaves crunching under their boots as they walked.

Through the bare canopy, Chanyeol could make out the grey clouds overhead. He would have to be wary of the weather and make sure they turn back if a storm approached. The forest wasn't thick, and it wasn't precisely desolate, but being stuck in it during a lightning storm could still spell disaster, not to mention the weather was still on the chilly side, meaning if they ended up drenched and stuck hypothermia could become a genuine concern.

"Who lives here?" Kyungsoo asked. He ran the pads of his fingers along the cracked wood and plaster wall of the ram-shackled house. There was a noticeable hole in the roof, with hay and tile clumped together near the opening.

"No one. It used to belong to a monk, but he has since moved on." Chanyeol could remember coming to the out-of-the-way house a few times when he was younger before he had been sent to live and study in the Capitol. A monk lived there, a man who Chanyeol remembered being afraid of at the time.

"It would be nice to live somewhere so quiet," Kyungsoo said, smiling as he took everything in. "No one to bother you."

"As long as you could still cook, right?" Chanyeol teased.

"Exactly."

Chanyeol looked around the place, remembering a large rock that used to sit near the edge of the property. When he found it, he quickly located a clump of mushrooms. Excited, he called Kyungsoo over to him with a shout. "This is where you will find the best mushrooms." They were scattered along the side of the rock, jutting out of the dead leaves that hugged along the stone.

When Chanyeol bent down to pluck one, he felt a raindrop, a large bead of water colliding with his forehead. He swore under his breath as it started to rain a second later, a torrential downpour bursting forth from the clouds.

"We can wait it out in the cottage. Come on," Chanyeol said, forgetting the mushrooms in favor of grabbing Kyungsoo's hand and tugging him towards the old abandoned house.

The rain didn't abate, much to Chanyeol's annoyance. It only got heavier and before long thunder and lightning moved in, making travel nearly impossible. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had found refuge in the part of the house that still had a roof, staying back from the water that had splashed onto the cracked floor. Chanyeol found a musty blanket and spread it over them as they sat side by side, attempting to wait out the storm.

They talked about nothing, about everything, trying to pass the time. At one point, Chanyeol heard Kyungsoo's stomach growl. He felt terrible he had nothing to offer him, having left the mushrooms behind in the rain.

Darkness began to descend, and it was still storming. They made the decision to stay in their refuge, it would be too dangerous to travel through the forest during the rainy night.

"Your mother will worry," Kyungsoo said, staring at the rickety old door that only marginally covered the doorway to the cabin.

"She'll know we're staying back because of the storm. It’ll be okay," Chanyeol promised him. He reached out, putting his arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder, urging him to lean in closer to keep warm. "It will be okay, Soo. We'll go home first thing in the morning."

Chanyeol woke with a start, eyes snapping open. It was dark and damp. It took him a moment to remember where he was, to recall the events of the last afternoon. The memory of the storm and the abandoned house came back to him.

Chanyeol’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to see the bulky outline of the cabinet in the corner, and the broken table near the door. He looked to his left, stilling when he saw not one form, but two next to him. Kyungsoo should be there. _Only Kyungsoo._

Chanyeol scurried to get up, the heels of his boots slipping against the damp wood floor. He clawed at the ground, making a startled sound. His breath puffed out, condensation rising in the night. Fear gripped him as he tried to move away from the mysterious person who had invaded their hiding spot.

In the darkness, a hand shot out, colliding with his neck. Chanyeol's hands went to the arm as he attempted to pry it from him. His throat was being squeezed by the dark and shadowy form, the nails digging into Chanyeol’s flesh. The hand was cold, icy against Chanyeol’s skin.

Chanyeol managed to land a kick, but his foot collided with something hard, something that didn't feel like a person. He gasped, summoning all his strength to free himself.

And then the hand was gone. As quickly as the stranger had assaulted Chanyeol, the person was moving away, leaning back.

Chanyeol’s hands went to his own throat, rubbing at the spots where the person had been choking him. It was painful, he was sure he was bruised. His eyes darted to Kyungsoo, who was lying prone on the floor. Chanyeol’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to make out how limp Kyungsoo’s body was, his arm thrown out to the side, his head hanging loosely to the side. It wasn’t natural. Chanyeol digested what he was seeing. He quickly realized that Kyungsoo had been attacked and was injured.

Without further thought, Chanyeol shot himself forward, towards the shadowy figure who had tried to choke him. His body felt like it hit a wall like it was colliding with hard and cold stone.

This person had attacked Kyungsoo. He had to stop him. Chanyeol cried out, seeing red. Someone had hurt his friend, his best friend, the man he loved the most of anyone. He funneled all his energy into stopping this person, _this thing_ , managing to push it back, knocking it off-kilter.

The man kicked back, landing a heavy blow on Chanyeol's side. But no, he wouldn't give up. The man had hurt Kyungsoo. He had to make sure he couldn't do it again.

The stranger launched himself onto Chanyeol, knocking him backward onto the floor. He pressed him into the rotted wood floorboard with enormous strength, his hands boring into the flesh of Chanyeol's shoulders.

Chanyeol growled and struggled against his attacker.

"Stop," the man hissed. He could see his face now, Chanyeol balked at the image. His features were dark, eyes flashing with something evil. Something about him was inhuman. _Evil._

"No!" Chanyeol tried to knee him but failed. He felt like a boulder had been placed on his chest, crushing him slowly. It was impossible to move, the muscles of his arms useless to push the man off him, the strength he had in his core pitiful in comparison to the power the stranger had. 

The stranger kept Chanyeol pressed into the floor and watched him struggle, not speaking. Finally, Chanyeol gave up, weakly letting himself relax. He knew he was crying, tears of frustration slid down his cheeks.

The man leaned in, his words spoken into Chanyeol's ear. "I already drank from him. Now tell me, do I finish him or do you I finish you?"

Drank? Chanyeol's mind was foggy. "Neither. I'll kill you," Chanyeol said through gritted teeth. He tried again to push the man from him to no avail. The fact he admitted that he had attacked Kyungsoo sent the adrenaline pumping again, giving Chanyeol motivation to fight back.

_Kyungsoo._

_Kyungsoo._

"You or your friend," the man repeated. "Choose."

Chanyeol felt like he was in a sinking ship with no way out. His energy was depleting the more he struggled, but he wasn't getting anywhere. He couldn't escape.

"You or your friend?"

"Me," Chanyeol shouted. "Hurt me, not him." A sob rose in his throat. "Don't touch Kyungsoo. Don't."

A second later Chanyeol felt the skin of his neck rip, a fire spreading down his body. He screamed in agony before everything went black.

It was the hunger that hit him first, the insatiable feeling like he must have nourishment or the very world itself would end. Rage coursed through him, drowning out the pain that hugged his limbs, that circled his head and ran up his spine.

Chanyeol gasped, eyes flying open. It was dark, the rain coming down in sheets. He was soaking wet, his robes plastered to his skin. Chanyeol dug his fingernails into the damp earth, clawing into the dirt. His back arched as he sucked in another breath, his lungs burning, his body adjusting to the sudden realization it did not have to breathe to survive.

Chanyeol didn’t know how long he laid on the ground, groaning and clawing, the anger and hunger simmering into a boil. Eventually, he found himself on his feet, staggering among the trees, his limbs clunky and uncoordinated.

He needed to eat, but the very thought of food sickened him. It was something else he craved, something he couldn’t name. It wasn’t his stomach that demanded to be fed, it was his entire being, feeling empty like it was unable to function unless he fed it this nameless thing he needed.

The glow of a lantern cut through the haze, bobbing from side to side as it was carried among the trees. Chanyeol stopped walking. He steadied himself against a thick tree, watching, and waiting. He felt like he was in a dense fog, the world around him showing itself through a screen of smoke that would never dissipate.

When the lantern came closer, Chanyeol could see the outline of a man, his robes heavy with water from the rain. Swaying among the mist, closer and closer he came, towards where Chanyeol stood.

Energy seemed to come from him, something Chanyeol could feel pass in the air. It told him things that confused him. It didn’t make any sense to Chanyeol among the blind rage of hunger.

Chanyeol let his fingernails claw into the tree bark. He dragged his hand lower, leaving deep lines in the trunk, rain soon covering the newly exposed wood.

“Hello there,” the stranger shouted.

Chanyeol didn’t answer, he stood silent, watching.

The man approached, holding the lantern high so he could see in front of him. A few quick strides and he was close, within arm’s length of where Chanyeol stood.

The man was smaller than Chanyeol, his hair in a topknot covered by a black gat, the ribbon tied under his chin. His eyes were warm, but his smile was warmer.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” the man said.

“Yes,” Chanyeol answered without hesitation.

“My name is Junmyeon, and I can help you,” the man introduced himself. “I’m like you, though I am not the one who turned you. That would be Seo Joon, and he is gone now. You aren’t the first one he’s deserted like this, unfortunately. It was his time to cease to be.”

Turned. Dead. None of it mattered, not at that moment. Chanyeol just wanted to feed.

“What is your name?” Junmyeon asked.

“Park Chanyeol,” he answered. Speaking his name kicked off a chain reaction, and for a split second, the fog lifted from his mind. “Kyungsoo.” His eyes went wide. Where was Kyungsoo?!

“Not now.” Junmyeon grabbed for Chanyeol’s arm, his grip firm. “Now, we eat.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest, but the hunger was coming back, shutting everything else out. Thoughts of Kyungsoo faded away, returning to the haze before Chanyeol could comprehend it was happening.

Rain and fog. Darkness. Pain and hunger, and anger.

“Follow me, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon urged him to move forward. “I’ll help you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! Please read chapter 3 if you have not done so yet, three chapters were updated at once, and that is where the update begins:)   
> Sorry for the delay in posting! Please note that the fic has been extended to six parts. Tags have also been added, so please heed the new warnings (particularly the graphic violence, which will occur in parts four and five). The final part is almost done and will be posted later this week.

“I love it.” Junmyeon gazed appreciatively around the apartment, basking in the pink. “My kind of decor.”

“We aren’t decorating our apartment in pink,” Sehun drawled, looking as thrilled with the pink palace as Chanyeol had been when he first saw it.

“Pink is a very soothing color,” Kyungsoo said, ignoring Sehun and his anti-pink agenda. “Studies have shown that it lowers blood pressure and allows people to get a better night’s rest.”

“You’re dead, none of that applies to you,” Sehun pointed out.

“Fascinating.” Junmyeon walked to where a large, rose and blush-toned canvas hung on the wall. “Do you know the artist?”

“Me,” Kyungsoo said. “I painted it.”

Junmyeon let out a garbled cry of appreciation. “You did? I love it!”

“Hey, do you have the papers?” Chanyeol asked, nudging Sehun. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon started to talk about art, and Chanyeol knew it was a lost cause, they would be at it for the next hour.

Sehun patted his suit jacket. “Of course.”

“We’ll be downstairs.” Chanyeol gestured for Sehun to follow.

Kyungsoo didn’t show that he heard them, deep in conversation about the abstract qualities of pink, Junmyeon interjecting excitedly every other sentence.

“Edward Cullen?” Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at the passport. It was his face, but the name… “You have to be joking. Isn’t that the sparkly vampire dude from that teen movie?”

Sehun shrugged. “Would you have preferred Alice Cullen?”

“No,” Chanyeol huffed. “Please tell me that isn’t the name on the marriage license.”

“Chanyeol Hyung, friend, bro.” Sehun threw his arm over Chanyeol’s shoulder. “A name is but a name. We’re bigger than names, live longer than a name. It doesn’t matter what’s on paper, it matters what is in your heart.” Sehun put his hand over his un-beating heart. “And in my honest opinion, your cold, dead heart sounds like an Edward Cullen.”

“Fuck off,” Chanyeol hissed, shrugging Sehun’s arm off his shoulder. He set the passport on the bar.

“You wound me,” Sehun mocked.

Chanyeol side-eyed his friend before walking to the small refrigerator that sat under the bar. There were still a few bags of blood inside, much to his relief. He grabbed two bags of A positive. “So, what made you came all the way here without telling us?”

“I wasn’t joking when I said Junmyeon missed you. He keeps whining about how he doesn’t know how you two are, and that it has been _forever_ since we’ve been all together.” Sehun plucked one of the bags from Chanyeol’s hand, not waiting for it to be offered. “And I think we can all agree the only time a whiny Junmyeon is a good thing is if my dick is in him.”

“Please never say that again.” Chanyeol cringed at the mental image. Junmyeon was almost like a parent to him, it was disgusting to think of him like that.

Chanyeol did a full-body wince for good measure and then bit into his pouch, tearing a small hole in the plastic. The blood flowed into his mouth; it was cold and had the bitter taste he had learned to love.

They drank in silence, probably the only time he would experience it now that Sehun and Junmyeon were there. Sehun was notoriously noisy, talking to anyone who would listen. Chanyeol basked at the moment, drinking down his dinner, his mind wandering back to the conversation he had with Kyungsoo right before Sehun and Junmyeon interrupted. Kyungsoo, asking him a question he wasn’t sure he should answer. _Do you love me?_

Of course, he did. Of course, he loved Kyungsoo. He had probably always loved Kyungsoo. He had undoubtedly always adored him and thought the world of him. He had always wanted to protect him, laugh with him, cuddle with him, and live with him, even if they were both dead and life was a relative term. For life, and beyond, he wanted Kyungsoo to be by his side. Thinking of the past decades when they were separated made it painfully clear that he wanted his future to include Kyungsoo, he was miserable without him.

He loved Do Kyungsoo with his entire being. He was attracted to him too, a fact that had blindsided him. His physical attraction to his friend was still growing on him, he was still trying to figure out how it worked, but he couldn’t deny it was there. His love for Kyungsoo had changed over the decades to something more than the love shared between friends.

But Kyungsoo didn’t feel the same way. Of course, Kyungsoo loved Chanyeol, but it was a different sort of love. It was about friendship, nothing more.

And it hurt. It hurt a lot to think of it, especially now Chanyeol was fixating on the reality that one-day Kyungsoo might fall in love. Hell, he probably would, the odds were in favor of it. And Kyungsoo would reasonably not act on it, not wanting to hurt Chanyeol’s feelings. It felt like shit.

Complete and utter shit to know he would hold back the love of his life from experiencing happiness.

“I got my dick pierced, wanna see?” Sehun asked.

Chanyeol sputtered, blood droplets flying out of his mouth. “No! For fuck's sake.”

Sehun shrugged. “Sorry, thought you might be considering it. You looked thoughtful.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes and counted down from ten. Unexpected guests were really the best.

It was Kyungsoo’s dedicated day to be the little spoon. They had worked out a schedule, insisted on by Kyungsoo, who didn't think it was fair Chanyeol was always the one being held. _I want to be held too, you know_. He was lying in Chanyeol’s arms, his back pressed flush against Chanyeol’s chest. Sehun and Junmyeon were in the guest bedroom, doing who knows what (Chanyeol didn’t really want to think about it).

Chanyeol snuggled in, letting his face rest against the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. He was too tall, or maybe Kyungsoo was too small, it took them a little while to get comfortable. Once they were, however, Chanyeol thought it was the best thing. Probably ever. 

“You never answered my question,” Kyungsoo said quietly.

Chanyeol pretended not to hear him, not sure he could answer now any more than he could when was first asked it.

True to form, Sehun and Junmyeon saved him for a second time. A loud moan echoed from the guest room, followed by a rhythmic pounding, which sounded very much like the headboard of the guest bed slamming against the wall.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Kyungsoo hissed.

“I hate everything right now,” Chanyeol whined, shutting his eyes and wishing he could disappear.

A cry of “Fuck, Harder” was the deciding factor.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol moved, breaking their cuddling routine to get the hell out of their pink apartment. No one needed to hear Kim Junmyeon beg Sehun, no one. They absconded to the restaurant, walking down to the kitchen with their hands on their ears to drown out the residual noise.

It seemed bearable in the kitchen. Chanyeol begrudgingly removed his hands from his ears and listened but didn’t hear anything lewd being shouted.

“I should have told them to stay at a hotel,” Kyungsoo mumbled, walking over to the stainless-steel worktable. He put his palms flat on the counter and jumped up, sitting on the edge, his legs dangling.

Chanyeol leaned against the stove, crossing his legs and folding his arms against his chest. “I still don't understand why they're here.”

“Me either.” Kyungsoo sighed.

A moment of silence passed between them. Chanyeol stared at the shiny white kitchen floor. He hoped Kyungsoo wasn't going t-

“So, your answer,” Kyungsoo repeated, swinging his legs slowly.

“What’s _your_ answer? Do you love me?” Chanyeol shot back. It was a dumb tactic, but he panicked. Panicked to the point he was asking a question he didn’t really want the answer to.

“I asked first,” Kyungsoo responded, leveling Chanyeol with a stern gaze.

Unless Sehun and Junmyeon started the place on fire, Chanyeol wasn’t going to get out of answering. He closed his eyes, opening them slowly.

“Do you love me, Chanyeol? Not like a friend either. I am talking about romantic love,” Kyungsoo repeated the question, defining the exact meaning.

Chanyeol tried to think of what each potential answer might bring, but his mind was muddled.

If he were honest, if he said yes, Kyungsoo would probably turn him down. Might even call off the wedding, getting creeped out and if he didn’t, he would most definitely never leave Chanyeol if he fell in love, not wanting to break his heart. If he said no, well, then maybe they could still move forward as friends. Still get married. Of course, Chanyeol would still worry about Kyungsoo not pursuing someone he loved, but they could talk about that. He could make Kyungsoo promise to never hold back, to not let Chanyeol drag him down. It would be more comfortable without unrequited love thrown into the mix. 

Or would it? Chanyeol felt like tearing his hair out. He didn’t want to mess anything up. He didn’t want to lose Kyungsoo, if Kyungsoo wanted to be with him. Except Kyungsoo didn’t love him, and damnit, the entire thing was making his head hurt.

“C-can, I answer later. I need to think about it,” Chanyeol said, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t see hurt or rejection in Kyungsoo’s gaze.

Kyungsoo hopped down from the table, his bare feet landing on the tile with a soft thwack. He approached Chanyeol.

Chanyeol looked up, meeting his eyes. He looked pissed, which took Chanyeol by surprise.

“Yes, of course.” Kyungsoo turned his head, closing his eyes. When he looked back at Chanyeol, blood was evident in the corners of his eyes, ready to fall as tears. “But until you answer, I think you should sleep on the sofa.”

Chanyeol was afraid. He was sad. He was shocked. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how he had made a mistake. All he knew was that he desperately did not want to see Kyungsoo cry.

“Please, please don’t cry.” Chanyeol took a step forward to reach for him, but Kyungsoo stepped back.

“I won’t. “Kyungsoo turned, stalking off, out of the kitchen.

Chanyeol watched him go, his cold, dead heart shattering into a million pieces.

Chanyeol woke up to the setting sun, a sliver of sunlight peeking in through the black velvet blackout curtains of the restaurant dining room. He hadn’t slept on the sofa, too afraid Junmyeon or Sehun would wander out of their room naked, something he really didn’t want to see. Instead, he curled up to spend his daytime unconsciousness in the corner of the restaurant dining room, feeling like the biggest undead jerk in the world.

Kyungsoo had looked so angry, so hurt. Chanyeol hugged his long legs to his chest. He wanted to curl up and hide.

He had messed up. Really messed up, but he wasn’t even entirely sure how. He couldn’t fix something if he didn’t understand the problem.

When he heard footsteps, Chanyeol struggled to sit up, to assume a façade of being fine-and-dandy, not wondering how, after so many decades on this earth, he could still royally fuck everything up without even understanding how. 

“There you are,” Junmyeon sing-songed, strolling into the room. He was dressed in a black suit, Sehun trailing after him, dressed decidedly much more casually, in a t-shirt and jeans.

“Chanyeol, my love, we need to talk.” Junmyeon stopped a few feet in front of him. “What’s wrong, you look like shit?”

“I––” Chanyeol rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

“Whatever” Junmyeon’s care about the non-Sehun’s of the world was eternally fleeting. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know I have other business in this town, aside from flying in to see my favorite engaged couple that is.” Junmyeon gave Chanyeol a wink. “It’s nice seeing you guys together again, by the way. Congratulations.”

Chanyeol mumbled a soulless “Thanks.”

“I’m also here because there is a Slayer in the vicinity.” Junmyeon delivered the news with a blinding smile. “And I intend to kill him.”

“A slayer?” Chanyeol furrowed his brow. He had forgotten to ask Kyungsoo about Slayers, operating under the assumption there were none near since Kyungsoo hadn’t mentioned it.

The news of a Slayer in town wasn’t something to be taken lightly. They were highly trained individuals bent on eradicating vampires from the earth. Every vampire in the city was in danger if there was a Slyer nearby.

“Yes. Apparently a fairly well known one too.” Junmyeon tapped his foot idly on the carpet. “I’m sure I’ll find him before you, but on the off chance he finds you first, do take care not to end up deader than you already are.”

“His name is Lu Han,” Sehun explained. “We don’t have a picture yet, but we’re working on it. Young, Chinese, dresses like he wants to sing hip hop. About this tall.” Sehun held his hand out, a few inches shorter than himself. “Armed and dangerous. Be very careful if you see him.”

“Does Kyungsoo know?” Chanyeol wanted to punch himself in the face. Even if he had royally fucked up, his mind still went to Kyungsoo’s safety first, even before his own.

“Yes.” Junmyeon pursed his lips. “He’s aware. Now come on, Sehun, we have a slayer to catch.”

Junmyeon and Sehun strolled from the dining room, leaving Chanyeol to stare after them.

Even tending bar couldn’t cheer Chanyeol up. He was less than chatty, which some of the regulars noticed, asking him what was wrong. “Nothing,” he replied in a tone that told anyone in earshot it was certainly more-than-nothing.

He dreaded having to step into the kitchen, afraid to see Kyungsoo looking at him with disappointment or anger or both. Minseok grumbled about having to walk into the back to fetch any supplies they needed but still did it, saving Chanyeol from the small angry chef.

After closing time, Chanyeol readied himself to curl up in the corner of the dining room and mope. Sehun had other ideas, barging into the restaurant and dragging Chanyeol out, his hand firm on Chanyeol’s arm.

“Come on, Hyung, we can’t stay here all night. We should go do something.”

Chanyeol sputtered, being dragged out of his despair, was not part of the plan. He had anticipated at least four hours of pouting and kicking himself before he had to sleep, now it was all ruined.

Once they were outside, Sehun stopped walking and let Chanyeol’s arm go. “Okay, where do vamps have fun around here?”

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol sighed.

Sehun rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then skip the fun. Let’s go look for the Slayer.” He gripped Chanyeol’s arm once again and dragged him forward, down the deserted sidewalk. “Maybe he’ll come to us. Two handsome vampires, out on the town.”

Chanyeol should have protested–– he wasn’t really looking for a fight, nor was he prepared for one–– but he felt like he didn't have the energy to disagree.

“Now, tell me everything that happened from the top, up to the moment that constipated expression landed on your face,” Sehun said. “And don’t you dare say nothing happened. You look like you want to die for a second time and Kyungsoo was crying blood this evening. “

“He was?” Chanyeol perked up. Of course, he would have cried, he saw the tears well in his eyes the night before.

“You, guys are impossible. Seriously.” Sehun rolled his eyes. “Now, how did you fuck it up?”

Chanyeol worried his bottom lip. They stopped for a blinking crosswalk, a person on a bicycle cycled past them, the wheel making a creaking noise. “I tried to have a talk with Kyungsoo about what might happen if he falls in love with someone. I was worried he wouldn’t pursue a relationship because he wouldn't want to hurt me.” Chanyeol sighed sadly. “He asked me if I loved him, like _love - loved_ him, and I said I had to think about it. And that’s it. He got mad for some reason.”

Sehun reached over and smacked Chanyeol on the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Chanyeol scowled.

“Just seeing if it made a hollow noise.” Sehun tsked. “Now, bro, Hyung, my friend.” He threw his arm over Chanyeol’s shoulders. “I could make this easy and tell you exactly what you did wrong, but then you wouldn’t learn. So instead, I’m going to let you figure it out. Okay. And you better and soon, because if I have to listen to both of you complain about the other one for years on end I’m going to walk into the sun to end my suffering.”

“You know what I did wrong?” Chanyeol had no idea how Sehun could know when he did not. Sehun had to be lying, was probably bluffing about it.

Sehun nodded. “Yes, I do. Now come on, let’s go hang out in a park. Slayers like parks. They’re epic fight scene material.”

Chanyeol trudged after his friend, desperately hoping they wouldn’t end up meeting the Slayer. He was already hurting from his own stupidity, fighting a human hellbent on destroying him wouldn’t be the cure he was after.

Chanyeol sat on the swing set, kicking off with his sneakers sliding against the sand, the swing launching into the air. He frowned. He still felt like he wanted to hide away for the next…four hundred years, give or take.

“Bet I can swing higher,” Sehun challenged, already having a lead on Chanyeol.

“Bet you can’t,” Chanyeol replied soullessly, pumping his legs to gain some air.

Sehun whizzed past him, his swing flying by. The metal of the chains creaked along with the swing set. Chanyeol was half convinced they would break the equipment, that in a second his ass would hit the hard sand, the metal frame toppling down on him and Sehun.

Chanyeol swung higher, legs jutting out, into the air. He bent his legs, the swing going back and forth. He had to win. Always had to win, even if he would rather be in a corner crying.

“Hey, Chanyeol,” Sehun called out. “When you were turned, do you remember?”

“Of course.” Chanyeol would always remember waking up, Junmyeon finding him and taking care of him, teaching him what he needed to do to survive.

“You gave your life for Kyungsoo, didn’t you?” Sehun said, whirring past Chanyeol.

Chanyeol pumped his legs, the swing going higher. “Yeah.” The memory hadn’t come back to him right away, but eventually, he could recall offering himself up so Kyungsoo could live. So Seo Joon, the vampire who had created him, the one that Junmyeon had destroyed for creating and abandoning countless vampires, would take him and not Kyungsoo.

“Selfless,” Sehun said, letting his swing slow down, the soles of his sneakers sliding against the sand. “An act of true love.”

Chanyeol mimicked Sehun’s actions, skidding to a halt with the toes of his shoes dug into the sand. He looked over at his friend. “True love?”

“Hmm.” Sehun nodded. “You would rather die than see Kyungsoo die. You love him more than you love yourself. And of course, I think we both know how Kyungsoo feels. I mean, you remember meeting your first slayer, don’t you?”

Chanyeol saw red, a flash of memory he didn’t like to recall filling his head.

“Chanyeol, Hyung. I said I wouldn’t help you, but you’re so ugly when you’re mopey,” Sehun said with a sigh. “You need to stop pretending you know how he feels. He loves you. For whatever fucked up reason you don’t want to believe it, and neither does he. You guys are the definition of dumbasses in love.” Sehun sighed, gone was the sage façade, his usual demeanor returning. “I can’t take another hundred years of seeing you two dance around each other. Go fuck already.”

Chanyeol remained seated, staring at the ground. Sehun was wrong. Sehun was…

“Tell him how you feel. If you love him, tell him. He deserves to know,” Sehun urged.

_Confess._ Chanyeol looked up at the night sky. Could he do it?

“He won’t hold it against you. Haven’t you two always done what is best for each other?” Sehun asked.

Chanyeol stared at the ground. Had they? Was their long separation best?

“Go, Chanyeol. Please. For all of us.”

Chanyeol stood, letting the swing hang loosely behind him. He needed to do something, Sehun was right. He should face it head-on, not avoid it. Kyungsoo had always called him courageous. Yes, he would muster up the courage to do… _something._

Sehun’s phone vibrated, loud enough for Chanyeol to hear. Sehun pulled it out and read the message. When he was done, he stood and slipped his phone in his back pocket. “Go tell him. I’ve got to meet up with Junmyeon,” Sehun said.

“He won’t reject you, trust me,” Sehun added for reassurance.

Chanyeol looked towards the park entrance. Could it be so easy?

“Be careful,” he said to Sehun before he strode towards the iron gate that leads to the street beyond the park, not convinced he could go through with confessing, but not wanting to stand alone in a park either.

Chanyeol stuffed his hands in his pockets and put his head down. It was so quiet, this time before dawn, this time before most of the city was awake. Chanyeol had learned long ago the night was filled with beauty and ugliness in a way the day never would be. But the beauty, the beauty is what he liked to remember over the years, the decades, over the century of his existence in the night. The night was beautiful, was full of things that could not be during the day. Words whispered that couldn’t be said at noon. Words he knew he wanted to say to Do Kyungsoo.

He turned it over in his head, trying to ignore the dread the idea of rejection brought. _Think Park, think,_ he repeated to himself. He had told Kyungsoo he needed time to think of his answer, and Kyungsoo’s reaction was sadness.

Chanyeol made a frustrated noise, kicking his foot out and groaning. Why was everything so damn confusing? Why couldn’t it work like it did in the sitcoms Kyungsoo liked to watch, where there was an epic confession scene, then everyone laughed, and then the couple got together, all loose ends wrapped up tidily with a good dose of laughter. They were going on one hundred plus years, and Chanyeol hadn’t gotten anywhere in that time. He was still as unsure as he had been when he was alive.

But what was he unsure about? He knew he loved Kyungsoo. He knew it now, Sehun was right. His uncertainty was centered wholly on Kyungsoo’s own feelings and his own fear of rejection. Kyungsoo did deserve to know the truth, he did. Chanyeol knew he had to bear with whatever answer Kyungsoo would give him, it was only right. He didn’t want to lie anymore. He didn’t want to drag things out.

He needed to face his fears. Perhaps Sehun was right, maybe Kyungsoo did love him. But maybe Sehun was wrong, and Kyungsoo never would. It would hurt like hell, but Chanyeol would have to face it. He would have to deal with the outcome, not prolong it. The only thing he was doing was making them both suffer, and he didn’t want that.

He really was a dumbass. Sehun had been right about that.

He could fix part of it, at least. He needed to go tell Kyungsoo his answer as soon as he could.

He began to run, his sneakers pounding on the pavement. Kyungsoo would probably be in their apartment, sitting on the pink sofa, flipping through channels like he would ever watch anything but the cooking channel before bed. He would probably frown when Chanyeol came in, Chanyeol could see it in his mind. Do Kyungsoo would probably even call him a dumbass when he confessed but any animosity would quickly fade away. It always did between them. It would fade away, and then they would be back to spooning, to joking around, to playing the music that Chanyeol liked, and Kyungsoo hated, watching television Kyungsoo loved, and Chanyeol hated it would be perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Chanyeol would learn how to deal with rejection if it happened, and Kyungsoo would make sure it wasn’t awkward. And maybe they wouldn’t go back to spooning, to playing the music that Chanyeol liked and Kyungsoo hated or watching television Kyungsoo loved, and Chanyeol hated. Perhaps they would settle in to be friends again, long-distance because that is what it would take to heal.

They would take care of each other no matter what. Aside from the time they had spent apart, they had always cared deeply, sacrificed, done anything they could to help each other. Chanyeol would survive rejection, and Kyungsoo would help him. 

He had to tell him. He had to tell Kyungsoo how he really felt because he knew they would survive anything together. They always had. 

Chanyeol reached the restaurant in record time, employing as much of his supernatural speed as he could muster. He punched the door code into the restaurant front door, throwing it open once it beeped. He rushed inside, past the podium the hosts and hostesses would stand at during busy times. He didn’t spare a glance at the long bar, which was now dark, Minseok having wiped it down well before he punched out. He rushed into the kitchen, the door swinging after him. He managed to dodge the evil pot and pan rack as he went, past the stove that Kyungsoo had wiped down until it was gleaming.

Through the door and––

Chanyeol stopped. Time slowed down into a nightmarish crawl as he took in the image before.

A man was standing in the back hallway, someone that Chanyeol recognized. He was the same man that Minseok liked to talk to, the one that would come into the bar and sit for hours, clad in a soccer jersey, laughing and flirting with the bar manager without a care in the world. His arm was raised, in his hand was an object that Chanyeol realized was a stake, the sharp tip glinting under the overhead light.

Chanyeol memorized the crook of the man’s arms. He took in the scattering of boxes, indicating there had been a scuffle. There was flour spilled on the floor and a smear of blood on the wall. Every detail was blaring at him, pulling him into a tunnel that pointed towards the only important thing in the room. In the world. In his life, undead or not.

On the ground, his arm up to protect himself was Kyungsoo. His black t-shirt was torn, and his face was red. He braced himself, knees bent, eyes closed, the stake inching towards him.

Kyungsoo was in trouble.

Kyungsoo was about to die.

_Kyungsoo._

“No!” Chanyeol shouted, lunging at the slayer.

~~~❦~~~

_August 1897_

_Danyang-gun, North Chungcheong Province_

Chanyeol watched from the shadows, careful to conceal himself. It was difficult to hang back and remained hidden when Kyungsoo was so close, tears streaming down his face. Kyungsoo was even stoic when he cried, chest heaving, but barely making a noise. It was like he was resigned to his misery and it hurt, it hurt Chanyeol so goddamn much to see it.

Junmyeon would scold him if he knew he was still watching Kyungsoo. He needed to let him go, to move on. The day Kyungsoo woke up with blood on his neck, finding Chanyeol missing, was supposed to be it. It was supposed to be the day that Kyungsoo started a journey of forgetting. He was dead, and Kyungsoo still lived. Their worlds were now shaded different, never meant to meet.

Chanyeol pressed the pads of his fingers into the wood beam. He sat under Kyungsoo’s open window, listening. Kyungsoo was still at Chanyeol’s parent’s house, still living with the Parks, fumbling through cutting wood. And he still was crying about Chanyeol even though it had been over a year since Chanyeol disappeared. 

Chanyeol bit his lip. He had fed earlier in the night, so there was blood in his body, enough blood for a small amount to leak out of the wound he created with his teeth, dripping down his chin.

Kyungsoo cried quietly while Chanyeol sat on the cold ground, clinging to the side of the small house, feeling like he was dying all over again.

“It does no good, Chanyeol-ah.” Junmyeon put his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You’re dead. _Gone_. You have to let him live.”

They were in Junmyeon’s home, a small cottage that sat deep in the forest, near the place where Chanyeol had been attacked and turned into a vampire the year prior. The little house was well hidden, however, and not likely to be discovered by two friends out mushroom picking.

“You need to stop visiting Kyungsoo.”

Chanyeol wanted to argue but he couldn’t. He knew it was true. Being around Kyungsoo would not help either of them anymore. “How did you leave everyone you know behind?” he asked Junmyeon.

Chanyeol had asked it before, he had heard Junmyeon’s answer before, spoken slowly, with pain in his voice, but he needed to listen to it again. To know he wasn’t alone in this.

“I don't want to hurt the people I love,” Junmyeon said. “And I _will_ hurt them if I stay around them, just like you will hurt Kyungsoo.”

Chanyeol sighed.

“It is hard to be in love and know that it can never work,” Junmyeon added. “I think that is the hardest, even more difficult than never seeing your parents or siblings again. Knowing the person, you want to spend your life with will go on without you, it hurts more for some reason.”

“Love,” Chanyeol repeated slowly.

“Hmm. You’re in love with Kyungsoo, right?”

“No.” Chanyeol shook his head. That would just be weird. “I love him because he’s my best friend.”

Junmyeon offered a small smile. Chanyeol had only known the man for a short time, given the lengthy future he was facing, but he already had figured out Junmyeon was wise beyond his years - vampire or human years, that is. “I love someone,” Junmyeon started. “I met him a couple of years before I died. He lives in Seoul, in Ojinam Gisaeng House, near the river. His name is Oh Sehun.”

“You love a man?” Chanyeol had heard of such a thing, but never knew anyone who felt that way.

“Yes. I do. And if you do, it’s okay. If you don’t that’s okay too.” Junmyeon crossed his arms. “Anyway, I miss him. I miss talking to him. I miss being around him. I really miss being naked-”

“Whoa okay,” Chanyeol threw his hands up. “Please, I don’t need to hear it.”

Junmyeon laughed. “Okay, I’ll leave out the steamy bits. My point is, I miss him every day and I wish I could see him, go tell him I am still around, but I can’t. I am not the same person he fell in love with.”

“What is he like?” Chanyeol asked, suddenly very curious about the man who could capture Junmyeon’s heart. Junmyeon was beautiful, surely anyone who loved him must be as equally stunning.

“He’s amazing. Funny. Perfect,” Junmyeon answered. “His mother runs the Gisaeng house, and he’s learning from her. It’s an unusual arrangement but one that they are both keen to. He’s good at what he does. He can be stupid sometimes but is smart in all the ways that count.”

Chanyeol had been to a Gisaeng house while he lived in the Capitol. The Gisaengs would play instruments while patrons drank away their troubles. Depending on how deep your pockets were and what kind of Gisaeng house it was, they could warm your bed as well. Chanyeol had never indulged in that particular benefit, however.

“Sometimes I think about going to visit him. He would say it didn’t matter, would probably accept me for what I am now, as inhuman as it is.” Junmyeon sighed. “But I can’t do that to him. I don’t want to put him in that position.”

Junmyeon fell silent.

Chanyeol felt a swell of sympathy for him. He reached over, pulling Junmyeon into a hug. He didn't say anything, just stood there, offering support.

Junmyeon hugged him back. “Stay away from him, Chanyeol, and this pain will pass.”

Chanyeol swallowed thickly. He had to let Do Kyungsoo go.

Chanyeol managed to stay away from Kyungsoo for three weeks, fighting against an impulse to visit his parent’s cottage, to sit under the window of the room where Kyungsoo slept. He fought against it and won, spending his time prowling the darkness of the forest, of the small villages on the mountainside, mind still wandering to Kyungsoo but his feet keeping him far away.

He fought and won for three weeks until the night came in which he could no longer fight, but not for lack of trying.

Junmyeon was away, having traveled over to the far side of the mountain to visit another of their kind. He had asked Chanyeol to come with him, but Chanyeol had declined. Long journeys were hard for him. Even after a year, his limbs seemed uncoordinated, even more so than when he was alive. It was like he was a child again, learning how to survive in his new form, how to make his arms and legs move the way he wanted them to.

The night was hot, humidity hung heavy in the air, blanketing the mountainside and settling into the small villages in the valley. Chanyeol walked among the trees, listening to the nocturnal animals who prowled the forest for their breakfast. He was also hungry, but he would wait for Junmyeon to return before he tried to feed. He was too afraid that he wouldn’t know when to stop and end up killing a human if he tried to feed on his own.

The narrow cart paths that snaked through the forest were deserted, the night keeping people away. Regardless, Chanyeol made sure he was away from the main roads. The underbrush snapped under his feet as he meandered through the woods.

Chanyeol didn’t realize how close he was to his parent’s home until he could smell the woodsmoke and see the familiar copse of trees that he’d passed by countless times before. It shocked him into turning around. He had been doing so well, he didn’t want to stumble after the progress he had made.

Chanyeol’s back was turned when he heard the first thwack. He stopped, his feet no longer willing to cooperate with his retreat.

It was the sound of an ax splitting logs. 

Chanyeol choked back a noise. He knew it was Kyungsoo. It had to be. _Whack_. The sound of wood falling onto the ground. The sound of crickets, of the forest at night, faded away. Chanyeol could only hear the noise of the ax.

It hurt so much to know he couldn’t go to him, to see him. If only he could have one glimpse. If only…

The shadow rushed at Chanyeol, taking him completely by surprise. It darted out of the darkness, out of the thick underbrush, careening into him before he could adequately react. The weight that hit him sent him off-kilter, falling to the damp ground with a shout.

Chanyeol pushed off the ground with the palms of his hands, dodging the blur of movement that came at him a second time. He avoided the attack, managing to struggle to his feet.

The attacker grunted, raising his arm. Chanyeol could see a sharp weapon grasped tightly in the man’s hand, a short spear of some kind. _Slayer._ Junmyeon’s warnings of men who attacked their kind flashed in his head. They carried pointed weapons, meant to drive through a Vampire’s heart, ending their existence.

The man brought the weapon down, swinging it towards Chanyeol. Chanyeol moved to the left, his feet managing to coordinate enough for him to avoid the weapon. The Slayer stumbled and yelled out a word that Chanyeol didn’t recognize, his voice echoing in the forest.

Chanyeol turned to run away, ready to escape into the safety of the woods, and then he remembered. Kyungsoo was near. Kyungsoo might be in danger too. He couldn’t leave.

No sooner had Chanyeol turned, ready to stay and fight, then he heard the voice that he loved above all others.

“Ch-Chanyeol?” It was rife with confusion, with fear.

Chanyeol turned to his left in time to see Kyungsoo standing at the edge of the forest, the ax still in his hands. Kyungsoo’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly as if he had been taken by surprise. A choked noise escaped Chanyeol’s lips, a cry of sadness, of want, of need. Of all the emotions he had swallowed down and tried to suppress.

The momentary distraction Kyungsoo caused left an opening for Chanyeol’s attacker. Chanyeol screamed when the weapon pierced his shoulder, ripping through skin muscle, and bone. He fell to the ground, searing pain spreading out from the place he was stabbed, fire rushing along his limbs.

Chanyeol saw blood in his eyes, mingling with the darkness. The man pulled the weapon from his chest and raised his arm, ready to strike again. Chanyeol could do nothing but stare up at the weapon in horror. It was over. It was finally over. He would be no more.

Suddenly, the Slayer screamed and dropped the weapon. He pulled his arm in and turned, giving Chanyeol a glimpse of what was behind him.

Kyungsoo was standing there, ax in hand. Blood began to flow from the man’s arm, dripping onto the ground. Chanyeol tried to stand but faltered, the pain too much. He could only watch as the Slayer grabbed the ax and struggled with Kyungsoo for control of the weapon, his uninjured arm apparently strong enough for him to put up a fight.

Chanyeol watched in horror as they grappled, as the man lost his footing and fell, taking Kyungsoo with him. Chanyeol clutched at his chest, covering his wound, trying to find any remnant of strength that would allow him to enter the fight, to stop the Slayer who was fighting Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo managed to kick the man but then was punched, the ax handle hitting his jaw, the crunch of shattered bone sounding. Chanyeol could smell blood, pungent, and raw. He cried helplessly when Kyungsoo’s hands, wet with the blood that had seeped from his own wounds and those of his attacker, slipped from the ax handle.

Chanyeol watched the Slayer raise the ax, then bring it down, his intended target managing to scurry away at the same time. Kyungsoo dragged himself back and rolled to his side. The effect was the blade coming down on Kyungsoo’s thigh, cutting deep into the flesh.

Kyungsoo screamed, head going back. Blood streamed out of the wound, spurting around the ax blade, coming out in rhythm to Kyungsoo’s heartbeat.

Chanyeol didn’t know how he found the stamina to pull himself from the pain, but he did. He was on the Slayer in a second, his hands digging into the man’s neck, nails breaking the skin. He tore at the flesh, screaming in anger. His fingers dug in, ripping open the stranger’s neck, and exposing his windpipe. The man gasped, shaking as his body went into shock.

Chanyeol tore out his esophagus, blood and muscles crunching with bone, Chanyeol’s fingers didn’t stop until the Slayer was no longer breathing, his neck no longer recognizable. Only then did he turn to Kyungsoo, crawling over to him, bloody tears stinging his eyes.

Kyungsoo saw him, the color drained from his face. “Chanyeol,” he said, voice weak. So much blood streamed from his thigh. Chanyeol put his hand over the wound, pressing in a futile effort to stave off the bleeding.

“Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol repeated. He looked down, blood streaming between his pale fingers. The life was leaving Kyungsoo fast, disappearing with each spurt of blood. 

Chanyeol blinked, feeling tears of blood on his face. “Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo,” he repeated like a mantra, leaning in “Kyungsoo, count for me. Please Kyungsoo. Count for me.”

Kyungsoo’s voice was weak, but he began. “O-one, two…”

Chanyeol pressed the wound, feeling sick.

“Three…fo…four.”

He had to do something. He couldn’t let Kyungsoo die, not like this. Not after being injured while trying to save Chanyeol.

“F-five, s-six… seven.” Kyungsoo’s voice was barely a whisper.

Chanyeol prayed to any god that might listen, to any higher power that may exist. _Please let this work. Please save him._

“Eight…nine…t-ten.” Kyungsoo’s eyes were glassy, the bloodstream becoming more intense.

Chanyeol let out an anguished wail as sunk his fangs into Kyungsoo’s neck, not knowing what he was doing or if it would even work, only hoping he could do the same to Kyungsoo as was done to him. He prayed he could save Kyungsoo by throwing him into his world of walking death.

“Elev…eleven… t-twelve,” Kyungsoo gasped, falling silent as Chanyeol drank the blood from him, trying desperately to save his friend from the nothingness of human death.


	6. Chapter 6

Chanyeol’s body collided with the Slayer. His weight managed to throw the man off-balance, sending him falling onto the tile floor of the back hallway. Chanyeol raised his fist and punched the man, hearing a cracking noise when his fist met Lu Han’s jaw. He hit him a second time, then a third. He lost count as he channeled all his anger, all his rage towards the man who would hurt Kyungsoo, his reality blurring between events a century prior, of the same rage and helplessness he had felt when Kyungsoo had been bleeding out from an ax wound, and what he had found in the backroom of Kyungsoo’s restaurant. 

The man seemed to be putting up little resistance, likely taken by complete surprise, knocked into near unconsciousness by the beating he was receiving. Chanyeol let his fist go lax. He moved quickly, his hand going to the stake that the slayer was still clutching. He pried it out of the slayer’s hand, gripping it tightly. He knew what he would have to do next to keep them safe.

He raised his hand above his head, stake poised and ready. The slayer looked up at him with big eyes, full of fear, his face covered in blood, broken and oozing. It was different, so different from the slayer of centuries past, fighting back, hurting, killing, bringing an ax down on Kyungsoo’s leg, meaning to kill him.

“Chanyeol, no!” Chanyeol heard Junmyeon’s voice. He raised his arm higher, ready to bring the stake down into the Slayer’s heart.

“Chanyeol, stop,” Kyungsoo pleaded. “Stop.”

Only when Chanyeol felt Kyungsoo’s hand on his arm, did he let the stake drop to the ground, his hand relaxing.

Chanyeol climbed off Lu Han, watching as the Slayer coughed and hacked up blood. Lu Han rolled onto his side, his bloody hands grasping at the tile, leaving streaks of red with each movement.

“Lu Han!” Minseok’s voice tore through the hallway, the vampire rushing past Chanyeol to the slayer.

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo, eyes scanning him to make sure he was okay. Kyungsoo’s hair was a mess, and there was a tear in his t-shirt, but otherwise, he looked unscathed. Chanyeol crawled over to his fiancée and pulled him into a hug, his arms going around Kyungsoo’s back, holding him close. “Are you hurt? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Kyungsoo said, hugging Chanyeol back. “I’m fine.”

Minseok fell to his knees next to Lu Han. “What did you do to him?” he shouted. “What did you do?”

“He’s a slayer,” Chanyeol hissed. He kept Kyungsoo pressed close to him, terrified to let him go.

“What?” Minseok stared down at the bleeding human, not moving away but not getting any closer.

“Chanyeol, go, get Kyungsoo out of here,” Junmyeon said, moving towards Minseok and Lu Han. “I’ll take care of this.”

Chanyeol held him tightly and stood, carrying Kyungsoo bridal style. Kyungsoo slapped at his arm, insisting he could walk and demanding to be put down. Chanyeol ignored him, rushing towards the apartment door, leaving behind the broken and bleeding Slayer and Junmyeon.

Chanyeol took the stairs two at a time, rushing into the Pink Palace, through the living room, not stopping until he was able to set Kyungsoo down on the grey sheets of his bed.

Chanyeol knelt next to the bed, blinking away a bloody tear. He almost lost him again. He had nearly lost the person he loved most in this world. He felt a well of anguish build in him, kicking off a chain reaction. He needed to say it all, he absolutely needed to say it.

Kyungsoo struggled to sit up. “Chanyeol, I can walk for fuck’s sake.” He stopped when he saw the tears that ran down Chanyeol’s pale cheeks.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol started, holding back a sob. “Kyungsoo, I love you.”

Kyungsoo scooted towards the edge of the bed. He reached over, placing his hand on Chanyeol’s cheek, the pads of his fingers smearing the bloody tears. “Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“No, no. You don’t ––” Chanyeol sucked in a breath that he didn’t need. “My answer. I love you, Kyungsoo, I love you.” Chanyeol put his hand over Kyungsoo’s. He stared up into the deep, brown eyes that he had looked into thousands of times over the last hundred years. He had seen them hold a flicker of life, show pain, light up in happiness, grow deeper brown with death. He loved Kyungsoo’s eyes, he loved everything about him. _He loved him_. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo repeated. Bloody tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he leaned down, inching closer. “I love you too.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes the moment Kyungsoo’s lips pressed into his own, a soft, almost reverent kiss that had been a hundred plus years in the making. Kyungsoo parted his lips a second later, and Chanyeol didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, a pained noise escaped his lips, sealed by the kiss, a sound of desperation, of understanding, of so many things Chanyeol had no idea how to express.

But he did his best, pouring his feelings, his realizations, his happiness and regret into the kiss, his lips moving against Kyungsoo’s, his tongue sliding against Kyungsoo’s teeth.

Kyungsoo’s hand cupped Chanyeol’s cheek, a tender gesture as he angled his head to deepen their lip lock. When they parted, their foreheads were pressed together, only an inch separating their lips, evidence of their hesitation to lose contact.

Chanyeol sat back, knowing he had to break away, at least for a moment. He looked up at Kyungsoo, partially in awe, and partly in sheer surprise. “You love me?” It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem like it was a remote possibility. He had to hear it again, he needed to, or he would never believe it.

“I’ve loved you since we were young.” Kyungsoo’s hand smoothed lower, to Chanyeol’s neck. His thumb caressed his jaw lovingly. “Chanyeol, I’ve loved you since we were in Seoul a hundred and twenty years ago.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Chanyeol asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Why didn’t _you_ tell me?” Kyungsoo challenged.

Chanyeol blinked away the tears. “We really are idiots, Sehun’s right.”

“He is,” Kyungsoo said.

“Dumbasses,” Chanyeol whispered, leaning up to press his lips to Kyungsoo’s once more. He wanted to kiss him forever, to never stop. So many wasted years…

When they parted, Chanyeol sat back, looking at the man he had loved for his entire life. The man who loved him back.

“I was afraid,” Kyungsoo said quietly. He looked down, a tear escaping from under his lashes. “It’s why I never told you. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and then even when I thought you might, I didn’t think you’d ever realize it.”

“I didn’t realize it, not until recently,” Chanyeol admitted. “I hate myself for it.”

“It’s why I said we should separate all those years ago. I thought maybe absence would make us both figure things out.” Kyungsoo swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. “I don’t know if it helped. I just ended up miserable, missing you so much. And when you said you needed time to think, I was mad. At myself, at you. That neither of us could say yes or no.”

A rush of understanding hit Chanyeol. Kyungsoo had said they should separate because he needed the time to grow into his own feelings. Part of him found it terribly unfair, they missed decades together instead of having an in-depth conversation that might have helped each other along, but at the same time, he could understand. They were idiots. Consummate idiots, but at least they were each other’s idiots.

Kyungsoo leaned in, his mouth finding Chanyeol’s.

Chanyeol kissed Kyungsoo deeply, channeling the hurt, the joy, the plethora of emotions into the action.

His Kyungsoo. The love of his life.

They kissed, both falling onto the bed, hesitant to lose contact with each other. They only stopped when Kyungsoo drifted off to his daily nothingness. Chanyeol held him close, not wanting to let him go.

Chanyeol hated leaving Kyungsoo’s side now that they had finally gotten somewhere, but he had to. He heard noises downstairs, and he needed to know what was going on. He knew the apartment was safe, or at least he assumed it was. He had also thought the restaurant was safe, but that illusion was shattered when he arrived home to find Lu Han ready to drive a stake through Kyungsoo’s heart.

Even if the security system failed, Chanyeol was confident he could trust Junmyeon. A hundred and twenty-three years ago, it was Junmyeon who had helped Chanyeol save Kyungsoo. He had found them in the woods, claiming instinct drove him to find Chanyeol that dark and humid night. He was the one who crouched over the pair, walking Chanyeol through the process of giving Kyungsoo the spark of eternal life. Junmyeon was the one who guided them, protected them until they could take care of themselves. He wouldn’t let anything harm Chanyeol or Kyungsoo if he could help it.

Chanyeol opened the door to the back hallway. Looking down the hall, he could make out the exact path of the physical altercation, out-of-place supplies cutting a swath towards the kitchen. He stalked down the hall, sidestepping the aftermath. He could hear voices coming from the dining area, so he headed that way.

When Chanyeol rounded the corner into the dining room, he stopped, narrowing his eyes at the sight before him. Junmyeon was sitting on the floor, his head resting on Sehun’s shoulder. Sehun had his arm around his husband, and they were speaking in hushed voices.

“Where’s the Slayer?” Chanyeol asked, glancing around. He didn’t see Lu Han or Minseok. “Did you already get rid of his body?”

Junmyeon stood, steadying himself on Sehun’s arm so he could escape the awkward angle he was sitting in. “He’s not dead,” Junmyeon said quietly. When Chanyeol opened his mouth to ask why not, Junmyeon held up his finger to silence him. “Minseok is going to turn him.”

“What?” Chanyeol felt a surge of anger. “You’re letting a Slayer be turned? What the fuck?”

“You severely injured him, Chanyeol.”

“Of course I did, he was going to kill Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol threw his hands up in exasperation.

Sehun hung back, crossing his arms over his chest. He remained quiet, watching while Junmyeon and Chanyeol argued over Lu Han’s fate.

“Minseok agreed to take full responsibility for him. Now that he’s turned, he won’t try to hurt any of us again,” Junmyeon said.

“What about the Slayer’s Guild? Do you think they will just leave us alone after we turn one of their own?”

“He didn’t belong to the Guild. He was rogue. I was wrong.” Junmyeon took a step towards Chanyeol, but the taller man took a step back. “Chanyeol ...”

Chanyeol turned around and stalked from the room, his hands balled up into fists. He stormed back towards the apartment, fury in his eyes. How could Junmyeon of all people let a Slayer be turned? It didn’t make sense. The man had tried to kill Kyungsoo. He was dangerous, he hated everything about them. Yet, Junmyeon thought it was okay to have Minseok turn him? It sounded like pure idiocy, something he was very, very good at.

When Chanyeol returned to the bedroom, he was so distracted by anger he missed that Kyungsoo had woken up.

“What happened?” Kyungsoo asked, sitting up in bed, the covers falling around his waist.

Chanyeol sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Kyungsoo. He clasped his hands together and stared at the floor, trying to calm down but failing. “Junmyeon is letting Minseok turn the Slayer,” he said through gritted teeth.

Kyungsoo didn’t respond, Chanyeol’s announcement was met with silence.

“He said he’s rogue, so it won’t matter. Does he not realize that no Slayer is truly working alone,” Chanyeol spat. “I have no idea what the fuck has gotten into Junmyeon. Why he--”

“Minseok is in love with him,” Kyungsoo interrupted.

Chanyeol turned his head to look at Kyungsoo. His fiancé didn’t share his outraged expression. Kyungsoo looked calm, almost serene. “Then Minseok should go too,” Chanyeol said, speaking out of anger.

Kyungsoo shook his head. “No. He didn’t know. None of us knew.” Kyungsoo moved, sitting up a little straighter. “In that case, I should go as well. I let Lu Han into my restaurant every night. I put everyone in danger.”

“Of course you didn’t know, Soo. It isn’t the same.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” Kyungsoo folded his hands on his lap. “Chanyeol, Lu Han loves Minseok. I know he does. He won’t hurt him, and by default, he won’t hurt us. “

“No, none of that makes sense.” Chanyeol wasn’t buying it. “He loves Minseok, so he tried to kill you?”

“Minseok confided in me,” Kyungsoo explained. “And I trust him. I know he would have told me if he thought Lu Han was a Slayer. He never said anything, he had no idea who he was.”

“He broke into your home and tried to kill you,” Chanyeol reminded him. “He would have if I hadn’t walked in.”

Kyungsoo leaned towards Chanyeol. He put his hand on Chanyeol’s arm and looked him in the eyes. “He made a mistake he is going to live with for the rest of his life. I forgive him, he was doing what he thought was right.”

Chanyeol hated how Kyungsoo could calm him down, could make him see a sliver in reason in the preposterous situation, just by being there, talking to him, showing him a minimum of physical affection.

“We’ve all made mistakes. Let Minseok deal with Lu Han and let’s move on. Please.” Kyungsoo implored. “I’m fine, I didn’t die. And now we have a wedding to plan.”

Chanyeol sighed. He wasn’t happy with the way things had turned out with Lu Han, but he knew deep down he had to accept it. “Little spoon?” Chanyeol asked in a small voice.

Kyungsoo flashed a smile and held his arms open. “Little spoon,” he agreed.

Chanyeol woke up to a sliver of sunlight fleeing from their bedroom. Kyungsoo was next to him, dressed in a t-shirt and plaid boxers. He wasn’t yet awake, giving Chanyeol time to look, to really look at the man whose head rested on his outstretched arm. Somehow, they had turned over during the day, and Chanyeol had ended up wrapped around Kyungsoo, a common occurrence now that they shared a bed.

Chanyeol leaned over, pressing a kiss to Kyungsoo’s brow. He had so much love for this man. The fact he now knew the feeling was mutual made him smile. He felt like he had won every contest, every competition, that the universe could conceivably throw at him. Do Kyungsoo loved him, and a Slayer turned Vampire wouldn’t ruin it for him.

When Kyungsoo stirred, Chanyeol looked away, trying to pretend he hadn’t been staring. He didn’t manage to wipe the smile off his face, however, at least not until Kyungsoo sat up, and he noticed the scar, the long pink, jagged line where the ax had hit Kyungsoo’s leg so many years before. Chanyeol swallowed. This time he wasn’t afraid to ask. “May I touch it?” he asked, hand hovering.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said quietly. He leaned back against the mound of pillows, watching as Chanyeol’s hand found his thigh.

The pads of Chanyeol’s fingers traced the puckered scar. It was cold, just like the rest of Kyungsoo. Cold. Dead. But it was the symbol of what had gotten them there, what had reunited them when death drove a wall between their realities. One hundred and twenty-three years ago, Chanyeol had sunk his teeth into Kyungsoo’s neck as he lay dying in the dark, damp forest near Chanyeol’s ancestral home. He had no idea what he was doing, the only thing Chanyeol knew was that he had to save Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the bottom of the scar, moving his lips up in featherlight kisses of adoration, worshiping the mark that tied them together in an extraordinary way. He had saved Kyungsoo that day, but he had also been the reason he was hurt in the first place. Or perhaps, as Kyungsoo claimed, it wasn’t Chanyeol’s fault at all, it was his. He had decided none of that mattered because, in the end, they were together. Fault wasn’t a concept Chanyeol wanted to entertain.

“You’re never allowed to get hurt,” Chanyeol said, pressing one last kiss to the jagged scar on Kyungsoo’s leg.

“Neither are you,” Kyungsoo murmured.

Chanyeol pressed his forehead into Kyungsoo’s thigh, closing his eyes. His hand smoothed over Kyungsoo’s leg.

“I can’t lose you, not again.” Chanyeol’s lips ghosted along Kyungsoo’s skin.

Kyungsoo’s hand found Chanyeol’s hair, his fingers carding through the locks. “You never lost me. I’ve always been yours.”

Chanyeol smiled into the blanket. “Were we always so cheesy?”

“No, but being alive for so long does that to a person,” Kyungsoo said. His fingers massaged Chanyeol’s scalp, making little circles that Chanyeol leaned into.

Chanyeol pressed another kiss onto the cold expanse of Kyungsoo's thigh, then another. He would kiss away the pain from that day if he could.

It was a perceptible shift that had occurred between them. The love that he had finally recognized was motivating a new appreciation for Kyungsoo's body. Chanyeol moved his hands over Kyungsoo's thighs, wanting to touch all of him he could, wanting to worship, to memorize every inch of Kyungsoo with his mouth and with his touch.

“Is this okay?” Chanyeol asked, looking up to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“Only if you plan on doing more than touching my legs,” Kyungsoo answered, relaxing back into the bed.

Chanyeol smiled. He planned on doing a hell of a lot more than touching Kyungsoo’s legs, that he was confident of. He started slow, circling his thumbs on the width of Kyungsoo’s legs, letting the pads of his fingers traced imaginary patterns inwards. He kissed a mole, then another, finding victory in the way Kyungsoo’s thighs moved apart to give him easier access.

Kyungsoo watched him, his hair a mess from sleep. He looked good, Chanyeol thought. Too good.

"Sexy,” Chanyeol murmured, pressing his lips to skin, sucking a mark into the inside of Kyungsoo's thigh.

Chanyeol quickly lost himself to the languid touches, the kisses, entering a haze where the only thing that mattered was touching, feeling the man he loved. Kyungsoo was skilled with his lips, with his tongue, and his hands gave Chanyeol’s a run for his money. They were both eager but unfailingly gentle, exploring the new dynamic between them with decades of suppressed desire simmering at the surface.

At some point they lost their clothing, tossing it onto the otherwise spotless bedroom floor. Chanyeol unconsciously licked his lips when he was presented with Kyungsoo’s naked torso, earning an eye roll from his fiancé.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a nipple guy,” Kyungsoo drawled.

“Nope,” Chanyeol quickly answered. “I’m a Kyungsoo guy.”

He earned a slap on the head, but it was playful and not hard. And he earned the right to suck on Kyungsoo’s nipples, twisting them between his thumb and index finger before sucking them until they were pert and blooming red. For his part, Kyungsoo seemed into it, back arching when Chanyeol tongued the buds just right.

Chanyeol quickly learned Kyungsoo could be impatient, at one-point chasing Chanyeol’s mouth when he thought a kiss ended too soon., At another moment whining at Chanyeol to hurry up and just "touch me."

Chanyeol picked up the pace, intensifying the kisses, hands roving with greater determination. He stopped showing as much restraint, reaching to cup Kyungsoo’s ass and squeezing. Kyungsoo reacted by thrusting against him, his hard cock meeting Chanyeol’s thigh.

Chanyeol sucked in a breath. He wanted to touch, to taste, but Kyungsoo worked faster. He pressed Chanyeol back into the pillows and positioned himself between Chanyeol’s legs.

Kyungsoo looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes.

"Big," Kyungsoo hummed, appreciating Chanyeol’s dick.

"Um, thanks." Chanyeol didn't know quite how to respond, but apparently, it was the right thing to say because a second later Kyungsoo was mouthing along the head of his cock. Chanyeol quickly decided this was probably what heaven was.

His tongue moved along the length of Chanyeol’s cock, teasing along the vein before circling the head. He sucked before taking the length into his mouth.

Kyungsoo had lips perfect for sucking cock, and he had skills to match. Being alive for a hundred years meant he had lots of practice, but so did Chanyeol. Yet he was still amazed at how Kyungsoo had him leaking precum after only a few back and forth motions with his mouth and hand.

Kyungsoo began slow, working up to a steady rhythm with his mouth and hand, spurred on by the sounds of pleasure spilling from Chanyeol’s mouth.

"Baby, fuck yes,” Chanyeol rasped, lost in the sensation of Kyungsoo’s perfect mouth around his dick.

A moment later Kyungsoo was sucking on the head, then letting the cock fall from his lips, a trail of saliva still connecting him to Chanyeol’s dick.

“Did you just call me Baby?" Kyungsoo asked.

“Maybe,” Chanyeol said meekly.

“Hmm,” Kyungsoo hummed. He licked along the slit of Chanyeol’s cock, circling the pre-cum onto his tongue.

“Fucking perfect,” Chanyeol breathed.

Kyungsoo took him back into his mouth, his reddened and slick lips circling around Chanyeol’s dick. The feeling was amazing, the tight, wet feeling that sucked him in sent Chanyeol’s libido into overdrive, his nerve endings firing, the muscles in his thighs tensing.

Kyungsoo seemed to sense how close Chanyeol was getting to the edge, moving back with one last swirl of his tongue. He wordlessly moved away from Chanyeol, scooting off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Chanyeol asked, head fuzzy with desire, but afraid he had done something wrong. He was worried, but he was also suddenly very grateful that Kyungsoo had his back turned because it gave him an excellent view of Kyungsoo’s ass.

Kyungsoo pulled a drawer open. He pulled out a tiny plastic bottle and tossed it onto the bed.

“My turn,” he said, padding back towards the bed.

Chanyeol looked down to see a bottle of lubricant.

Kyungsoo crawled back on the bed. “Up,” he said, nudging Chanyeol off the mound of pillows and quickly taking his place when he moved.

Kyungsoo parted his thighs and gave Chanyeol his best come-hither look. It worked like a charm. Chanyeol moved closer, pressing his lips to Kyungsoo’s. When they broke apart, Kyungsoo was urging him with a whisper, “Work me open, I want you to fuck me.”

Chanyeol decided the seconds he lathered his fingers up with lubricant was the best use he had ever made of his vampire super speed.

He moved closer marveling at Kyungsoo’s pink hole. He placed one hand on Kyungsoo’s knee. Chanyeol moved slowly, afraid he would hurt him with any sudden movements. He circled Kyungsoo’s rim with the tip of his finger, spreading the lubricant over the puckered flesh.

“I won’t break,” Kyungsoo reminded him.

Chanyeol tested, pressing the pad of his index finger past the ring of muscles. Kyungsoo whined impatiently and tried to scoot forward, taking more of Chanyeol’s fingers inside of him. “Chanyeol, I’m already dead, you can’t hurt me. I want more.”

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol asked, contradicting the fact he is already pressing two fingers inside his fiancé.

Kyungsoo’s breath hitched when Chanyeol sunk his fingers to the knuckle.

“Hard,” Kyungsoo urged, moving his hands to his sides, his fingers pressing into the bedcovers as Chanyeol works him open.

Chanyeol pulled his fingers out and thrust them back in. He experimented with the pace, the angle, not stopping until Kyungsoo was parting his thighs wider, breathy gasps mingling with moans leaving his lips.

When the pads of Chanyeol’s fingers found Kyungsoo’s prostate, he clenched down. Chanyeol marveled at the sight of Kyungsoo's hole, greedily sucking in his fingers, clenching hard around him when he began to pull them out.

The sounds Kyungsoo made had Chanyeol doing anything he would so they would continue. He liked how he sounded, how he looked, spread out for him, lost in his touches.

Before long Kyungsoo batted Chanyeol’s hand away.

“Don’t want to come like this,” he rasped.

Chanyeol removed his fingers, slowly pulling them out, watching as Kyungsoo’s hold clenched around air. “How do you want it?”

“On your back,” Kyungsoo ordered, urging Chanyeol to switch places with him. Once Chanyeol was lying down, Kyungsoo crawled onto his lap. The realization that Kyungsoo was going to ride him had Chanyeol sucking in a breath he did not need, cock twitching.

Kyungsoo gripped the base of Chanyeol’s cock and lined him up, wordlessly sinking down and taking all Chanyeol inside of him. Chanyeol keened, swallowing thickly as his muscles tensed. They moaned in tandem, adjusting to the wave of pleasure that they shared between their bodies.

Kyungsoo threw his head back, exposing his neck. He bounced on Chanyeol’s lap, his nails digging into Chanyeol’s shoulders. His nipples were pink and erect, the faintest red mark on Kyungsoo's chest evidence of Chanyeol’s earlier ministrations.

Chanyeol moaned. He snapped his hips up, burying himself balls deep inside Kyungsoo.

Their pace was fast, a reflection of how long they had waited for this moment. They were chasing their releases, fucking fast and furious, no longer milking out each moan, each whispered word of praise.

Kyungsoo fucked hard, riding Chanyeol’s cock until he was a moaning mess, toes curling, heels digging into the mattress.

Chanyeol’s hands gripped Kyungsoo's hips, his thumbs pressing in hard as he tried to hold off his release for just a little longer. "Baby, come on. Come."

"You first," Kyungsoo rasped, moving his hips most effectively.

Chanyeol curled his toes, his dick buried in the gorgeous man on top of him. Kyungsoo's face was flushed, eyes lidded, lips swollen. His cock was flush against his stomach, the glisten of precum on his abdomen.

Chanyeol reaches for Kyungsoo's cock, sheathing it in his palm he began to stroke it in time to Kyungsoo's movements. Kyungsoo's sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bounced, crying out when Chanyeol’s dick hit his prostate.

Chanyeol could feel his release building, it wouldn't be long. Kyungsoo was clenching around his cock, riding him hard while he made throaty noises of pleasure that went straight to Chanyeol’s cock.

"Close," Chanyeol grunted, feeling the warmth spread out from his stomach, his muscles contracting as the blood rushed to his cock.

Kyungsoo leaned in. How voice was low but raw. "Come in me. Fuck me full."

A whine escaped Chanyeol’s lips at Kyungsoo’s dirty talk. The coil in his abdomen tensed in tandem with Kyungsoo clenching around him, ready to release.

"Gonna come," Chanyeol cried out a second before he hit his peak, seeing white as his orgasm racked his body. He shot his load inside Kyungsoo, who rode him through his release, moaning loudly one than twice before he reached his own release, shooting his come on Chanyeol’s stomach.

~~~❦~~~

_Three Months Later_

_Chicago_

White paper streamers hung over the tacky coffin, twisted together, clear tape pressed against the black walls fixing them in place. White puffy crepe paper flowers had been tacked over band posters, and white tissue paper bells were looped onto the back of the red velvet chairs. Gold confetti had been strewn throughout the restaurant, on the tables, on the bar, everywhere but the kitchen. Chanyeol imagined that Kyungsoo would be livid when he saw it, asking who would be the one to vacuum it all up.

Baekhyun weaved through the small crowd, carrying a tray of Jell-o shots, handing them out to anyone would take one.

Chanyeol smirked when he saw more than one of his vampire friends take the shot from the hyper waiter, only to dump it in a nearby garbage when he wasn’t looking. Vampires and Jell-o shots didn’t really mix.

He leaned against the door to the dining room, crossing his long legs. He fiddled with his cufflinks, one a tiny gold mushroom, the other a gold ax that Kyungsoo had bought him from god knows where. An inside joke, Chanyeol supposed, albeit a rather morbid one.

He was dressed in a maroon velvet suit, with a white shirt with a few too many ruffles for his liking. Kyungsoo had let Baekhyun pick out their outfits, so Chanyeol refrained from complaining since it could be worse –– they could be hot pink.

“You look nice, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon said as he walked into the room. He patted the taller vampire on the shoulder, gaze full of affection.

“Are you ready, Hyung?” Sehun asked. The pair were dressed in matching black suits, looking very dapper and very dead - the black offsetting their pale complexions.

“More than ready,” Chanyeol answered without missing a beat. He had wished multiple times over the last three months to turn back time, to undo having waited so long to get to this moment. Their idiocy had cost them too many years.

Sehun and Junmyeon padded off, towards the first row of seats. Chanyeol watched them go. It had been hard for him to forgive Junmyeon for letting Lu Han live, and honestly, his relationship with his mentor wasn’t one hundred percent back to what it had been, but they were getting there, in large part because Sehun insisted on it. Sehun might be a brat, but he was their brat and a damn persistent one at that.

Chanyeol spotted Jongdae standing across the room, glass of blood in his hand, openly ogling Baekhyun as he passed by. Baekhyun noticed and gave the Blood Bank keeper a cheeky wink. He remembered Jongdae making an offhand comment about biting the cute human waiter that worked for Kyungsoo. Suddenly, everything clicked. Chanyeol could only imagine how energetic the pair would be if they hooked up, he was tired just thinking about it.

Jongin shuffled into the room looking characteristically half-asleep. He was dressed in a light blue suit, his ankles and feet bare, true to brand. “Hyung,” Jongin greeted warmly. “Am I late?”

“No,” Chanyeol smiled and shook his head.

Jongin nodded. He was scatterbrained of late, telling Chanyeol he felt stressed due to the sudden jump in responsibility. He would be acting as head chef for a few weeks while Kyungsoo and Chanyeol went on their honeymoon.

It was Kyungsoo who had insisted they honeymoon in Korea, much to the delight of Sehun and Junmyeon. He wanted to visit the graves of their families, to tell them they were well, and to show them that even though it took a long time, they were ready for forever now. Chanyeol teased him about being sappy and sentimental but secretly ate it all up, dying at how damn romantic his soon-to-be husband was acting.

Chanyeol patted Jongin on the shoulder, then walked out of the dining room, into the bar area.

Lu Han was there, standing with his fingers intertwined with Minseok’s, both men hanging out by the bar. Chanyeol had found it awkward, being around him, to say the least. The first few times he had encountered Lu Han post-attack, he had a hard time not going for his throat. Lu Han might be one of them now, but Chanyeol hadn’t forgotten his Slayer origins - or what he tried to do to Kyungsoo.

Ultimately, it was Kyungsoo who made the two literally hug and make up, pushing them together and telling them it was making his restaurant staff awkward to see Chanyeol glaring at Minseok’s boyfriend anytime he came into the place.

Now they were uneasy friends, though Chanyeol couldn’t claim he was one of his favorite people yet.

Minseok waved, while Lu Han looked away when he saw Chanyeol. They were growing on each other, but they weren’t there yet.

Chanyeol headed for the kitchen, pushing the swinging door open and stepping inside.

It was uncharacteristically deserted considering it was a Friday night. A sign had been hung on the restaurant a few weeks back, announcing that there would be a private party for a night and that the establishment would be closed.

Chanyeol was light on his feet as he walked into the back hallway. He was a few feet from the apartment door when it opened, and Kyungsoo stepped out. He was wearing a tuxedo that matched the one Chanyeol was wearing his hair styled up and away from his forehead. He looked…

“You’re beautiful,” Chanyeol said, in awe. “My beautiful tiny husband,” Chanyeol cooed, moving his arm to guard his privates, guessing Kyungsoo would probably kick him in the balls for calling him tiny. Kyungsoo knew he was short, but he hated being reminded of it, especially by Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo glared at him but didn’t strike. “You don’t look bad yourself,” he mumbled, smoothing his hands over the maroon velvet of his suit jacket.

Chanyeol stepped forward and pulled Kyungsoo into a hug, muffling the shorter man’s protests. “My tiny husband is the best-looking husband in the world,” he sing-songed, this time earning an elbow to the ribs. Chanyeol stepped back and laughed.

“My tall husband, who can’t understand why getting married in a wrinkled suit is a bad thing,” Kyungsoo mocked, stepping away. He held out his hand. “Now come on, we shouldn't be late for our own wedding.”

Chanyeol took Kyungsoo’s hand and squeezed it. “I love you.”

“I love you too, now come on.” Kyungsoo tugged him towards the kitchen. “People are waiting.”

Sehun stood at the host podium, which had been moved into the dining room for the event. He had a book open, one that Chanyeol was pretty sure wasn't any religious text. He had a feeling it was probably a shoujo manga, judging by the glimpse he got of the front cover. 

Jongin started playing the wedding march on his phone when Chanyeol and Kyungsoo appeared at the entry to the dining room, tears already welling up in his eyes.

Chanyeol squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand. He looked down at his soon-to-be husband, feeling a measure of awe that someone as amazing as Kyungsoo was going to marry him.

“You can look later, come on,” Kyungsoo said under his breath, directing Chanyeol forward.

They began their walk down the makeshift aisle. Jongdae threw glitter behind them as they went while Baekhyun made catcalls and someone shouted “Nice ass!”.

When they reached the altar, Chanyeol let Kyungsoo’s hand go. He turned, a few feet separating him from Kyungsoo. Chanyeol knew he would cry, he had feasted on enough blood out of sheer nervousness during the last few days to ensure he had an ample supply of tears. He also knew Kyungsoo wouldn't cry, and that was okay. It was great, actually. It was one of the many things he loved about his soon to be husband. Stoic. Practical. Quiet. He was the things Chanyeol couldn't be, and it was reciprocal. Chanyeol was loud, passionate, chaotic. And together they worked, filling the voids in each other’s lives.

Sehun cleared his throat. “Dearly departed, we are gathered here today…”

“It’s dearly beloved,” Chanyeol said under his breath. Sehun ignored him.

“To witness the marriage of these very two, special morons that I call friends. It took them this long to figure out how to get in each other’s pants, which must be some sort of record. Seriously, what if they didn’t have a hundred years? You guys would be that couple that reincarnate through a thousand lifetimes before you cut the crap and just admit--”

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo warned.

Sehun sighed. “Anyway, today we are here to witness the marriage of Edward Cullen, formerly known as Park Chanyeol, and Count Chocula, formerly known as Do Kyungsoo.”

“Count Chocula?” Chanyeol blurted out.

“It’s the name on my ID papers okay,” Kyungsoo explained. Trust Sehun to give them both ridiculous names.

“To be joined in royal matrimony, under each other because I assume they switch, invisible, with liberty and blood for all.”

Kyungsoo raised his hand like he was going to slap Sehun.

“So unless anyone has any objections, you guys can make out.” Sehun raised his hands to the grooms. “Make it rated, too. There aren’t any kids here.”

“Make it nasty, Boss,” Baekhyun shouted his agreement before muttering an apology when no one seconded his thought.

“We wrote our own vows,” Chanyeol reminded Sehun, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the crumpled piece of paper he had opened and refolded dozens of times over the preceding few days.

“Okay. Well, read then.” Sehun stepped back from the podium. “I need some Best Man time anyway.” He moved to stand next to Chanyeol, taking the place of a Best Man. He had insisted that Chanyeol allow him this honor because he had promised him. Chanyeol didn’t remember promising Sehun shit but went along with it.

Kyungsoo fished his own paper out of his inner pocket, his more neatly folded than Chanyeol’s crumpled mess.

“Do you want to go first?” Chanyeol asked.

“You go,” Kyungsoo urged.

Chanyeol knew he was going to cry. Oh my god, was he ever going to cry. He held Kyungsoo’s hand with one hand, with the other he held the paper, his fingers trembling as he began to read.

Chanyeol cleared his throat and began. “Do Kyungsoo...“ He swallowed and looked down at the paper, trying not to burst into tears before he got a full sentence out. 

“I still remember the first day I saw you. You were with your father, playing near the river. I had just moved to the capital to live with my cousins, and I was so, so scared. You were the first person I met who made me feel like everything would be okay.”

Chanyeol could vividly recall being seven years old, awkward and clumsy, in a new home, in a busy city that frightened him. Do Kyungsoo had approached him first and asked him to play, holding out his hand for Chanyeol to take. It was a different time then, a different world, but Kyungsoo was there, kind and friendly.

“I remember the times at your father’s house when you tried anything to get out of studying. The days we went to drink, the days we stayed home and spent time in the courtyard, playing games and teasing your sister.” _When we were alive._

Chanyeol felt the pressure build in his cheek, his bottom lip quivering. Across from him, Kyungsoo stood, affection heavy in his gaze. “And I remember when life changed and crumbled. I remember the pain and sadness. But we got through it. All of it, Kyungsoo. When I was seven years old, I met the only person I will ever truly love, and for that reason, I have had a blessed existence. Because you’ve been by my side, Do Kyungsoo, I’ve always had luck even if it seemed like I didn’t.”

Chanyeol felt a tear spill from his eye, running down his cheek. “Whatever happens, as long as you’re by my side, I can get through it. Do Kyungsoo, I vow to protect you if you ever need it, not saying that you do but.” Chanyeol wiped at his eyes, blood smearing under his eyes. He smiled through the tears. Kyungsoo reached up and wiped Chanyeol’s bloody tears away with his thumb before stepping back into his place.

“Dude is he crying blood?!” Baekhyun yelped. Jongdae shushed him a moment later, murmuring something about a medical condition.

“I’ll learn to love pink. I will never burn down your kitchen, if I can help it. I w-will.” Chanyeol looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back tears. He didn't want to be a totally sobbing mess before Kyungsoo even got a chance to speak. “I will do my best to help you any way I can. I will...I will fold my clothes and put them away neatly, and never hog being the big spoon. I’ll-” He looked back at Kyungsoo. “I’ll always love you, Kyungsoo. Always.”

Kyungsoo squeezed his hand, smiling affectionately.

Chanyeol whipped at his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be.” Kyungsoo leaned in on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Chanyeol’s lips, earning a loud catcall from the audience.

“Ready?” Kyungsoo asked, unfolding his vows.

Chanyeol nodded.

“I wrote a poem,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol looked down. He could see Kyungsoo’s neat handwriting on the paper. “You write poems?”

“For you I do,” Kyungsoo answered, a slight blush creeping on his cheeks.

“Oh, wait, I should be Kyungsoo’s Best Man now shouldn't I.” Sehun shuffled between the couple so he could stand next to Kyungsoo. When Kyungsoo shot him a death look, Sehun gestured for them to continue. “Go on, be all lovey-dovey.”

Kyungsoo cleared his throat and began. “This life has twists and turns, but it's the sweetest mystery. When you're with me.” He looked at Chanyeol and warned,” Don’t laugh.”

“I would never,” Chanyeol promised. He was so touched imagining Kyungsoo writing a poem for him there was no way he could tease him about it. It was the most romantic thing Kyungsoo had ever done, and Chanyeol was ecstatic --- also ready to ugly cry over how perfect his husband was.

“Every night and every day, no matter what may come our way, we're in this thing together. The dark turns to light.” Kyungsoo continued.

Chanyeol swallowed. _The dark turns to light_. Their undead life was one of shadows, but together, together it was always bearable. Chanyeol let a tear fall at the implication.

“I’m never going to let you go, giving you my heart and soul, I'll be right here with you for life,” Kyungsoo said, saying all of the words carefully like he was afraid he would mess up.

Life was a strange concept to them, Chanyeol knew. What was their _For life_? Or did it mean something else? Was Kyungsoo referencing what each had given up for the other? Kyungsoo traded his life for Chanyeol and Chanyeol had done the same. It could mean so many things for them, all of them going straight to Chanyeol’s tear ducts. Their heart and souls, gone for reach other.

_For Life._

“The storms may come, and winds may blow, I'll be your shelter for life, This love, I mean it until the day I die.” Kyungsoo quickly folded the paper and tucked it in his suit coat, looking more than a little embarrassed.

“That was very nice, Hyung,” Sehun said, clapping.

“Very nice,” Chanyeol agreed, a more polite version of the screaming nonsensical response echoing in his head.

“Now kiss, or I’ll smash you together,” Sehun threatened, taking a step forward.

Chanyeol looked down at Kyungsoo, at his husband. He moved forward, his hands finding Kyungsoo’s sides. Chanyeol angled his head to lean in slow, but Kyungsoo was impatient. He tiptoed, his hands going to Chanyeol’s shoulders. He pressed his mouth to Chanyeol’s, his tongue darting forward to lick along the seam of Chanyeol’s mouth.

They kissed deeply, with their friends shouting and hollering at them. When they parted, Chanyeol opened his eyes to see tears streaming down Kyungsoo’s cheeks. He was taken aback, momentarily forgetting that he was also crying.

“Soo,” Chanyeol said softly.

“I’m happy. I’m just so happy,” Kyungsoo said, hugging Chanyeol tightly.

Chanyeol held Kyungsoo to him. They were cold, their hearts were no longer beating. Blood appeared where tears should flow. No longer human, they would face a future most extraordinary. _Together._

“I love you, Kyungsoo, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kyungsoo whispered into Chanyeol’s tuxedo jacket.

“Took you guys long enough,” Sehun muttered, making his way to where Junmyeon was standing.

“Better late than never.” Chanyeol pressed a kiss on the top of Kyungsoo’s head, his undead heart full of love for his husband.

_For Life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, so sappy! Ahaha, sorry for the sugar rush, but I had to. 
> 
> Thank you to all of the readers who were patient with me as I took a break from posting this. ILY guys. 
> 
> And yes, I had to work the lyrics of For LIfe in somewhere, and what better way than to have Kyungsoo write a sappy af poem and then get super embarrassed reading it. D’awwww. These two give me diabetes they are too cute (finally! only took them a hundred some years /side eyes my characters).
> 
> I do have a head canon around both Xiuhan and Seho in this AU and I would love to write their stories one day (specifically the story of how Sehun became a vampire and Xiuhan meeting and their relationship in detail during this fic and after it). Can’t promise when / if, but I would definitely like to revisit this again as both couples have full and interesting stories to tell. So maybe stay tuned! Ahaha. 
> 
> If you want to flail at me in a place other than the comments, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/London9Calling) or [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/LuKFC). I don’t bite, I promise!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be 4 parts, each part consisting of a mini-flashback. I have it all planned out, and will hopefully be posting 1 part a week. 
> 
> If you ever want to yell at me / come say hi you can find me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/London9Calling) or my [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/LuKFC).


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